


How to Save a Life

by moontear



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-08-19 23:17:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16544213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moontear/pseuds/moontear
Summary: When Rey meets Ben Solo at a Christmas party and kisses him beneath the mistletoe, she has no idea what's in store for her. A vision shows her the immediate future, where Ben takes his life. Now she's on a mission to prevent this from happening. But can she, when Ben is so private, nearly unreachable? And where, precisely, did this vision come from? Slight trigger warning.





	1. The Voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to do a Christmas story, so I'm ganking this from a prompt I did. This was originally under Whispered Thrills and Lightning Strikes, but I've adapted it here into something longer. It's not going to be very many chapters—I intend to keep it short and sweet, with what I've mapped out. 
> 
> Anyway, despite it being the beginning of November, I'm giving myself plenty of time to finish it before Christmas. I hope people enjoy!

 

 

****

**_December 20_ **

_Rockin' around the Christmas tree at the Christmas party hop… Mistletoe hung where you can see, every couple tries to stop…_

It was ironic that those were the lyrics playing when Rey glanced across the party and saw… him. Why? Because he was standing directly beneath the mistletoe, and his gaze was intense and reluctant to leave hers. It made her flush and swallow, and she told herself to look away, but she couldn't bring herself to. She told herself it was because he was the only interesting thing about this party.

 

"Whoo!" Finn cried, bumping into her, jostling the drink she had in hand. "Oops, sorry. Isn't this a great turnout, though?" He leaned against the same wall she was hanging out on. "I'm glad you came. Rose didn't think you would."

 

That drew Rey's attention to her best friend. "What? Why?"

 

He shrugged and stared down into his red Solo cup. "Oh, you know…"

 

"I don't, actually," she replied.

 

"Well, you've been kind of… _weird_ since we got engaged. You know? I never see you anymore. So I just assumed that you didn't… _approve_ of our engagement…"

 

"You know what they say about assuming," Rey said with a smile.

 

"You know what I mean," he muttered.

 

"I've just been busy, Finn. Don't be so dramatic. You've been engaged for, what, a week?"

 

"Two weeks," he continued muttering. "Two—two weeks…"

 

She laughed. "Two weeks, then." She handed him her drink so she could pull her hair up into a messy bun. With all the people swarming this house and the heater on, it was growing very warm. "It's this receptionist job. You know I'm not very good in office environments. It's sapping all of my energy every day. I promise you, I _love_ Rose."

 

Finn studied her for a moment to check how serious she was, then nodded and returned her drink to her. "Ben Solo is checking you out. Do you think he likes your ugly sweater?" He _tsked_ and took a long draw of his iceless soda. "Only person not wearing a sweater. Bastard. I hate that Rose invited him."

 

Solo?

 

He examined her blank stare. "You know, Solo. Of Solo Industries." When she continued to peer at him, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "The place where you _work_?"

 

Everything clicked together, and Rey gasped. "Oh, my God! He's my employer!"

 

"Sort of," Finn said. "I don't think he actually works there. Just a part of the family business. Rose knows him because she works on his cars a lot. So… any idea why he's staring you down?"

 

The back of Rey's neck heated. "Still?"

 

"What do you mean, _still_?" Finn questioned. "How long has he been at this?"

 

"I don't know," Rey admitted. "I only caught him just before you arrived."

 

Finn grunted and knocked back the rest of his soda. Rey suspected there was alcohol in it, likely rum. "He's trouble," he said. "That's what I've heard."

 

"You know what they say about assuming—"

 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" Finn griped. "Just go say hello so he'll stop being creepy."

 

This tore another giggle from Rey's lips. "No."

 

"Why not? He's that creepy?"

 

"No!" She laughed harder. It was difficult not to, what with the look on her friend's face. He was genuinely concerned. "He's standing beneath the mistletoe."

 

Finn leaned into her. "Do you think he knows?" he whispered, as though he could be heard over the racket of the party. "I'm surprised he showed up at all. That guy _hates_ me."

 

"Hate is a strong word," Rey said. "And anyone who knew you could never hate you."

 

"Awh," Finn replied with a trace of his own blush. "Thanks, Rey."

 

"You're welcome," she said merrily.

 

"I'm going to go get another drink. You want one?"

 

"No, I'm all right, thank you."

 

Finn wandered off, leaving Rey to her own devices. For the first time since Finn had showed up, she let her gaze roam back to the man beneath the mistletoe. He was looking into his cup. Sensing her eyes on him, he lifted his own, and once more they were holding a stare.

 

Rey felt it her duty to point out about the mistletoe. He was a handsome man and likely didn't want a drunk girl groping him and kissing him. Or maybe he did. Either way, she tipped her cup in the direction of the mistletoe, and Solo looked up. While he was doing so, Rey pushed off the wall and made her way over to him.

 

She got to see how very tall he was once she was standing next to him. "Hi," she said.

 

He yanked his eyes down from the mistletoe, startled.

 

When he didn't say anything, Rey tilted her head. "You were staring at me."

 

He coughed and crossed his arms. "No…"

 

"No?"

 

"No," he said more firmly.

 

"Hm."

 

" _You…_ were staring at _me_ ," he said.

 

"Oh, is that so?" She folded her arms in a mimicry of how he was standing. Well, one arm. She still had her drink to carry. "All right, then. I was staring at you." She could be agreeable, if only because of how utterly awkward he was. "What's your name?"

 

"Uh… Ben," he muttered.

 

"My name is Rey," she said. "Are you enjoying the party?"

 

"No," he said.

 

"Is that your favorite word?"

 

"…No."

 

She couldn't help it, she giggled. Since the mistletoe was dangling from the threshold of one room to another, Rey leaned against the panel opposite from him. People passed between them, engrossed in their own little worlds.

 

"You're wearing antlers," he observed.

 

"Yes," she said.

 

He shifted. "…They light up. And they've got bells."

 

"Indeed, they do." This man had absolutely zero game, and she was enjoying every moment of it. "I see you didn't get the memo for the ugly sweaters."

 

He scoffed. "Oh, I got it, all right. I just chose to ignore it."

 

"That's not very nice," she said.

 

"Well, I'm not a nice person." He coughed a little again. Now that she was standing before him, he couldn't lock eyes with her anymore. They roamed the room to their left, the dining room, studying the partygoers. Mountains of food were piled on the table, anywhere from homemade goods some had brought, to Zebra Cakes, to chips, to soda and liquor, to plenty of ice and cups.

 

"So I've heard," she replied.

 

"Well… good, then."

 

"Good?" She raised an eyebrow.

 

He nodded. "Yes, good." Brown eyes finally met hers again, golden from the way the light was hitting them. It was in that moment that Rey thought he was rather beautiful, despite his untraditional features, and her breath halted. "I hate Christmas parties."

 

Rey decided to go with the subject change. "And why is that?"

 

Another scoff, and he set his jaw and stared into the contents of his cup as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. "People. I hate people."

 

"Then why are you here?" she asked, another giggle bubbling up.

 

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I like Rose. She's nice… I guess. And I haven't left my apartment in a while. I was bored."

 

She nodded. "That seems as good a reason as any."

 

"Are you laughing at me?"

 

"Only a little," she confessed.

 

"Well, now who isn't the nice one?"

 

"Me," she agreed. "Shall we, then?"

 

"Shall we what…?" he asked cautiously.

 

"Complete a Christmas tradition." She took a step toward him and watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. She didn't stop until she was an inch away from him. "Hi."

 

"Hello…"

 

"Kiss me, then." A devious grin was spreading across her mouth, and she couldn't be bothered to hide it.

 

She thought he would tell her no, or choke, or offer perhaps an ugly exchange of words. To her surprise (and secret delight), he took stock of the room one last time before bending down, his eyes closing as his lips met hers. They were so very warm and soft, and she thought she heard herself sigh as her free hand slipped to his shoulder.

 

And then something happened.

 

Something strange and impossible.

 

Time stopped.

 

Rey looked around, her eyes widening. Ben was frozen in the position of kissing her, but it didn't last for very long—shortly after, a whirlwind of images took over her mind. She was helpless, floundering, trying to make sense of what she was being shown.

 

_"It's a shame… It's a damned shame…"_

A graveyard. Umbrellas held up against snow, a woman leaning into what had to be her husband, sobbing openly. There weren't very many people gathered around the coffin that had yet to be lowered into the ground. They were all dressed in a somber black, most with blank faces, as if they were there out of respect and nothing more.

 

 _"Heir to a billionaire kills himself,"_ a man read over a coffee table. He had a faux hawk, and his expression was taut with… something. Not exactly grief, but a close cousin. _"I didn't see that happening. I knew he was sad, but…"_

The parents from the graveyard were screaming at one another in their pristine mansion. They both blamed the other for what had taken place. The woman picked up a vase and threw it, narrowly missing the man's head. His eyes blazed with fury.

 

_"It's always my damned fault! Always! Why don't you take some of the responsibility?!"_

_"You're the one who pushed him away!"_

Ben Solo, hand shaking as he put the barrel of a gun into his mouth. He was slumped against a wall in a dark room, and tears streaked his face. The loneliness was palpable. He was clearly a man lost.

 

He pulled the trigger.

 

_O Christmas tree, o Christmas tree, how lovely are thy branches… O Christmas tree, o Christmas tree… How lovely are thy branches… Your boughs so green in summertime…_

 

"You're really pretty," Ben muttered, and Rey realized she was back at the party.

 

What the hell was _that_?!

 

The urge to run away and never look back was strong. Somehow, she composed herself and lifted onto her tiptoes to give him another kiss. She didn't know why she did it—the vivid image of blood splattered on the wall was still with her. But she couldn't freak out in front of him, in front of any of these people.

 

Maybe someone had slipped something into her drink…

 

But she _felt_ fine.

 

At the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw a flash of white feathers.

 

"Are you okay…?" Ben asked.

 

 _He's going to kill himself,_ Rey thought numbly. _I have to do something._

She could be wrong. This entire thing was madness. But something resonated within her—something telling her to not leave him alone tonight. That no matter what countenance he was displaying, deep inside, he was hurting. Hurting enough to end his life.

 

"I'm fine," she said breathlessly because, _"I just had a vision,"_ didn't sound like it would hit the ear quite right.

 

"All right," he said slowly, his brows pushed together over his nose. His eyes were so serious.

 

 _Don't let him leave_ , someone seemed to whisper.

 

She grabbed his hand. "Want to get to someplace more quiet?"

 

He nodded empathetically, and she managed to plaster a grin onto her face.

 

"Come with me," she said.

 

"…All right," he allowed.

 

Operating on instinct, Rey tugged him toward the garage. No one would be hanging out there, and she could breathe in the cold air and gather her thoughts. She had to get a grip on herself. That, or see a shrink.

 

What in God's good name was going on?

 

"You work for your father's company?" Rey asked, shivering. It was barely ten degrees out there.

 

"…He wants me to," Ben replied. He ran his fingertips lightly over the hood of Finn's car, as if he was almost too shy to keep his gaze on Rey. "I don't want to, though. I had… other things planned for my life."

 

"Like what?" Rey asked, just to keep him talking, buying herself time to _think_.

 

"I don't know," Ben said. "It's not important."

 

"Well, _I_ want to hear," she replied.

 

He hesitated, his eyes clouded with suspicion. Determining that she was being honest, he shrugged one shoulder and resumed admiring Finn's car. "When I was younger, I wanted to write. I had all of these ideas."

 

"What happened?" Rey rubbed at her arms to keep herself warm. She might as well have been wearing a tank top, for what good the sweater did to shield her.

 

"You're cold," he stated. A moment later, he'd taken off his blazer and wrapped it over her shoulders. She stared up at him from so close again, her heart in her throat. Even if she was going mad… the idea of—of this man… wanting so badly to die…

 

She couldn't let it happen.

 

"And you're avoiding the subject," she pointed out. "But—thank you. For this."

 

Ben turned away. "It's nothing," he mumbled.

 

She could see it now—the signs. They were there, if one knew what to spot. The circles under his eyes, the tightness to his lips. The haggard slump of his shoulders. The empty stare. He was good at hiding it, though. Everything was subtle enough to miss.

 

"So you think I'm pretty?" she asked.

 

The tips of his ears burned red.

 

She took a step closer to him. "You don't look so bad yourself," she said playfully.

 

The blush deepened, and he shrugged again.

 

"That car must be absolutely fascinating," she observed.

 

"Not as fascinating as you," he said under his breath, so softly she almost missed it.

 

Now she was the one who was blushing.

 

Embarrassed, she found the tools and began fiddling with different wrenches. They were in typical red drawers. Finn could be OCD sometimes, so they were all aligned perfectly. Rey knew she'd catch hell if he saw her doing this. Well, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

 

 _Go on,_ said the whisper at the back of her mind, barely there.

 

"Would it be—too strange if I asked you to get coffee with me tomorrow?" Rey asked.

 

"No," he said again without hesitation. He cleared his throat. "I—sure."

 

"Excellent," she said, smiling to herself. "What's your favorite place?"

 

"I don't have one."

 

That didn't surprise her.

 

"There's a café I like to go to on 5th," she said. "It's nothing really special, but the tea is delicious, and I've heard the coffee is great, as well."

 

He was quiet.

 

She looked over her shoulder at him a bit furtively, finding him doing the same. Both flushing, they quickly went back to what they were doing.

 

 _Good,_ the whisper said. _This is good._

"Did you like it?" she asked.

 

"Like what?" he replied.

 

"The kiss," she explained.

 

"O-Oh…" His silence was more drawn out this time. Eventually, he cleared his throat again. "Yeah… I did."

 

"I did, too," she whispered. "Do you think we should try it again?" Despite the disturbing vision, she was looking forward to another round.

 

A large hand wrapped around hers. Startled, she lifted her head in time for Ben to bend his head to kiss her. Her eyes closed, a soft sound leaving her. His other hand came to a rest at the small of her back, pulling her closer.

 

They didn't do much—it was only sweet, lingering kisses that nonetheless made Rey warm all over. He was so tentative, yet firm all at once, and it was endearing. Endearing enough to make her forget all about what she'd seen.

 

"That went well," she said breathlessly.

 

His lips descended on hers, and all other words flew out of her head.

 

 _Yes,_ whispered the voice.

 

 _Who are you?_ she thought.

 

There was no answer.

 

Ben drew away, stroking his thumb along the line of her jaw as he did so. She found herself kissing his palm as it passed.

 

"I have to go," he said. "I have to be up really early." He wet his lips. "…What time do you want to meet?"

 

"Oh—" Rey's wits had scattered. She did her best to pull them back together. "When are you free?"

 

"Noon," he said.

 

"Noon, then," she replied.

 

For the first time that evening, he smiled. It was tiny, so tiny it barely reached his eyes, but it was there. She gave him back his coat and watched him walk away as he held it over his shoulder with a finger, his free hand tucked into his pocket. Her heart was hammering, and she slumped against Finn's car.

 

She left shortly after, heading back to her flat. The vision was still on her mind as she flicked on the lights and dropped her purse onto her dining room table. She shed her coat and yanked off her sweater. She hoped he found the café—they hadn't exactly exchanged numbers. She wished she hadn't been so late to bring that up.

 

Hungry despite the food from the party, she opened her refrigerator.

 

"You did a good job," someone said.

 

Rey couldn't help it—she screamed a bit.

 

She whipped around, arms flying into a defensive stance. "I HAVE MACE, AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO USE IT!" she said, though it wasn't at hand. "AND I'M VERY TRAINED IN KRAV MAGA!" she continued, though she'd only taken one lesson.

 

"You shouldn't lie," said a golden brown-haired man.

 

"Don't come any closer!" she warned.

 

"Relax," he said.

 

And she watched as wings pushed out of his back and fanned out, white feathers shimmering.

 

Then she did the one thing she'd sworn she'd never do.

 

She fainted.


	2. The Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for the ones who haven't read The Bond That Ties Us or Falling for the Enemy, there's a recurring character I have named Sitrine. I like to place him in a majority of my stories because he's pretty popular.
> 
> Anywhoozles, onward, my friends! <3

 

  _Have yourself a merry little Christmas,_

_let your heart be light,_

_From now on, your troubles will be out of sight_

 

 

"There we go… how do you feel, dove?"

 

Rey cracked her eyes open slowly, the kitchen light above her. It was obscured a moment later by white feathers, and she was reminded quickly of what had transpired. Both embarrassed and shaken, she got to her feet, stumbling away from… from the _angel_ that had appeared in her flat.

 

"What the hell are you?" she croaked.

 

"I think it's quite obvious, really," he replied.

 

All right, well… that was true enough.

 

"How is this possible?"

 

"You believe."

 

"What?" She backed away from him steadily, slowly.

 

"You _believe_." The angel gestured, seemingly encompassing the world at large. "You have faith. You—"

 

"Right, got it," she said. "Maybe you should get to the point. It was you who showed me that… vision? Do you have a name?"

 

"Sitrine," he replied somewhat serenely, though he had an air about him that wasn't… quite… heavenly. "And the point is that I—" He cleared his throat. "That _Ben_ needs your help."

 

"Yes, that was apparent." Sitrine, huh? An odd name, but if he was an angel, what would really be considered odd? "So what are you, his guardian angel?"

 

"Yes."

 

A simple answer that raised so many questions. "If you're his guardian angel," Rey argued, "then why on God's green earth is he going to commit suicide?"

 

Now the angel looked shifty. He wouldn't quite meet her eyes, flexing his wings and cracking his knuckles before him with both hands. Rey set her jaw and folded her arms, a hip against her kitchen counter. Here it came. The heart of this madness.

 

"I may have… grown… a bit lax in the last hundred years," he admitted. Standing well above six feet, but not as tall as Ben, he had the body of an Adonis. His hair rested against his shoulders in soft waves. There was an… otherworldly faint sheen to his skin, that hair, his wings. It made Rey wonder if this wasn't his real form.

 

"A bit lax?" Rey repeated dubiously. "You're a guardian angel!"

 

Sitrine huffed impatiently. "Yes, yes, I know! But you were there, and it was the first time the man had _life_ in him, and I knew that you could _save_ him."

 

"Clean up your mess, you mean?" Rey retorted hotly.

 

"There is no need to be hostile," Sitrine said with ruffled feathers. A few escaped to the floor before dissolving into golden light. Erasing all traces of his existence… interesting. "We can work together, you and I."

 

There wasn't a question about helping Ben. Of course, she would. She would help anyone who was ready to kill themselves. But the audacity of this angel!

 

"When you say you've grown 'lax,' what do you mean?" Rey asked suspiciously.

 

Sitrine sighed. Loudly. "If you _must_ know—"

 

"I must."

 

"—if Ben Solo kills himself, I'll be… cast out of heaven, if you will. Surrendered to the Dark Lord."

 

Rey stared at him blankly.

 

"The fires of hell!" Sitrine said exasperatedly.

 

"I know what you meant!" Rey snapped. "I just can't believe an angel would be stupid enough to risk something like that if he really didn't want to go to hell!"

 

"Look, can we save the particulars for later? We don't have much time." Sitrine's heavenly clothes were a stark contrast to Rey's mostly barren flat. They didn't belong, _he_ didn't belong. It cast a sort of wrongness to the world, despite the fact that it was an angel she was dealing with. But Rey had never liked change very much.

 

"How am I supposed to keep this a secret from him?" Rey burst out in disbelief.

 

"Because if you tell him, if you tell _anyone_ , even a priest, they'll think you're mad," the angel replied. "But you _can_ help him. He loves you."

 

Rey drew back. " _Loves_ me?"

 

The angel grew impatient once more. "Perhaps I used the wrong word. Mortals are so finicky with definitions. He _fancies_ you, and it can grow into love very quickly."

 

Rey wasn't sure if that was much better.

 

"Do you want to help or not?" Sitrine asked flatly.

 

"I do," she replied. "It's just… there's a lot to wrap my head around."

 

"Well, you haven't got much time, I'm afraid. You should get some sleep. You'll need to be prepared for tomorrow. Here, let me give you some of his memories—"

 

"What?! No!" Rey rushed away from him so fast her back smacked into her refrigerator.

 

"Why not?"

 

"Why would you?"

 

"So you can get a feel of his life, so you'll have a leg up—"

 

"No!" she reiterated. "Absolutely not. That's too… I'll slip up. He'll know something is strange. No. I don't want to know anything. He can tell me himself."

 

Sitrine considered her for a long moment, musing. Finally, he bent a wing and plucked a feather free with a wince. He did something glow-y with his palm, muttering what sounded like Latin, and then extended it toward her.

 

Rey eyed it.

 

"It's to summon me if you need me," Sitrine explained. "Keep it on your person somewhere. I must take my leave. I shouldn't be interfering, and if I'm caught—"

 

"You're unbelievable!" Rey cried. How could an angel get up to so much trouble? What was the point of being an angel if the angel wasn't moral and right, and—Christ, she was done thinking about this.

 

She snatched the feather from him. Before she could utter another word, he was gone, the only evidence that he had been there at all in Rey's palm. She eased out a breath, finding that she was trembling. She had just been burdened with a very great weight, and the angel had had no problem in foisting it off on her.

 

But what was most interesting of all was that Rey hadn't thought she _had_ faith. She'd known that there was _something_ out there—she just hadn't considered herself very Christian. Going to church was boring, and she wasn't exactly a good Samaritan.

 

She twirled the stem of the feather, examining the glossiness of the thing.

 

 _I need to get to bed_ , she thought. _And when I wake up, this will have all been a dream._

* * *

 

 

_Christmas Eve will find me,_

_Where the lovelight gleams,_

_I'll be home for Christmas,_

_If only in my dreams_

****

**_December 21_ **

 

It wasn't.

 

Rey cursed and slumped back into her pillows, groggy as hell. So much for _that_ plan. Then she saw the time and cursed harder, scrambling out of bed and into the shower. It was half past ten. She had to get ready!

 

Ben had seen her in flashing antlers and an ugly sweater the night before. That was not the way she wanted to be remembered. No, she wanted to do her hair nicely and go for a subtle smoky eye with her make-up. And she had plenty of cute clothes to wear, nowhere near the spectrum of that party. She wanted to look her best.

 

At a quarter til noon, she snatched her keys and purse and headed out of her flat, Sitrine's feather secured in a zipper compartment in the bag. She locked up and took the elevator down to the central floor, waving at the front doorman cheerily. She saw that it was snowing and pulled her coat more tightly shut.

 

The café she'd mentioned was a block away. She went to it often, and it wouldn't take long to walk there. She didn't want to be too early, nor did she want to be late. Five minutes before their agreed upon time should be enough. And she liked the crisp, fresh air, freezing as it was. She loved the gentle flurries.

 

Upon reaching the door, she found Ben leaning against the wall by the front door, cold and glaring moodily to everyone who passed him. Seeing him made Rey light up, and she hurried over to him, grasping his elbow and tilting forward to kiss his cheek.

 

Ben blinked, startled, and looked down. Finding Rey there, a smile slowly replaced that scowl.

 

"Afraid I wasn't going to show up?" she asked.

 

"…Maybe," he said quietly, shifting his shoulders.

 

She took his gloved hand in her own and led him inside. He followed her without question, his eyes taking in the feel of the place. It was quaint, almost antique-ish, and warm. She found her favorite table abandoned and sat at it, the window close-by. Ben slid into the seat opposite of her. Rey unwound her scarf and shook free of her coat.

 

"…You look pretty," he said, his eyes on the passerby outside.

 

"Thank you," she said with a small flush. It wasn't the first time he'd mentioned it, and she appreciated the compliments. He didn't look like he gave them often, if at all. "So what do you like to drink?"

 

"Coffee, plain," he replied. "…You said you drink tea?"

 

"Almost exclusively."

 

A small chuckle rasped from him.

 

"What?" Rey asked, slightly indignant.

 

"Brits," he replied. "You love your tea so much."

 

"I could go on about the many, _many_ faults of Americans, but I'll spare you." Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, she looked up as a waitress moseyed over.

 

"Hi, Rey," she said.

 

"Hi," Rey replied. "Ben, this is Anna. Anna, this is Ben."

 

Anna, bubbly as ever, beamed at him. It faltered a second later at Ben's glare.

 

Rey leaned over to Anna and whispered loudly, her eyes on the man, "He doesn't bite. He just likes others to think he will."

 

The glare turned on her.

 

The waitress gave a hesitant laugh. "I'll keep that in mind. The usual?"

 

Rey nodded.

 

"And you, sir…?"

 

"Black," Ben said.

 

"All right, anything else?"

 

"I'll have a blueberry scone," Rey said. She glanced at her date. "Do you want anything?"

 

He shook his head once in the negative.

 

"That's it, then," Rey said.

 

Anna bustled off. Rey smiled to herself, thinking of everyone's observations, of Ben's own observations, that he wasn't nice. But it faded as she remembered what was going to happen if she didn't intervene.

 

"How long have you been in the States?" Ben ventured quietly.

 

"Mmm, a couple of years now," she remarked thoughtfully.

 

"Do you like it?"

 

"Sure. I miss home sometimes, but it's all right."

 

Silence reigned.

 

Rey tilted her head.

 

"…Those were all the questions I had prepared," Ben admitted, still not catching her eye. He drummed his fingers nervously against the table. "I'm not used to this sort of thing."

 

"And why is that?" Rey asked, briefly thanking Anna as she dropped off their order.

 

He shrugged and mumbled something.

 

"Well, I'm glad you're here," she said. She took a sip of her tea and hummed gratefully. The scone, she'd handle in a moment. It was going to be devoured. She'd let it savor its last few moments of life.

 

"I should tell you that I'm very bad at small talk," he muttered.

 

"That's all right," she assured him. "I don't mind the silence, so long as it's companionable. Is it?"

 

He turned her words over before nodding a bit.

 

"Do you want a piece of my scone?" she asked as she broke it into two.

 

"Are you going to force me to eat it no matter what I say?" Ben asked with a hard frown at the piece of food.

 

"I am now," she laughed.

 

"Fine," he said, swiftly taking it out of her fingers. "But you shouldn't feed me sweets."

 

"And why is that?"

 

He'd already popped the scone into his mouth, so she had to wait for him to finish chewing before he could answer. "They're fucking delicious."

 

"And that's a bad thing?"

 

"It is when you've had a root canal," he said.

 

"Maybe that should teach you to brush and floss," she replied with something close to a smirk.

 

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I do. Frequently."

 

"So you're a sweets monster?"

 

"It's… my kryptonite."

 

Her smile spread.

 

"What?" he asked with suspicion.

 

"I don't know, I just like the idea of it."

 

"Of what?"

 

She tore her half of the scone into two more pieces. "That you adore sweets so much. It's… well… sweet."

 

"That was a terrible pun."

 

"I know." Rey finished off the scone while they did indeed bask in a companionable silence. But she knew eventually that she'd have to do _something_. Had to find a way to convince him not to end his life.

 

"What are you doing after this?" he asked suddenly.

 

"Uh—" She hadn't been prepared for that. "I don't know. It's the weekend, so…" She trailed off at his intense stare. "Did you want to do something?" she ventured.

 

"Will you have lunch with me?"

 

"…Sure," she replied.

 

"You have to promise me something first," he said gravely.

 

"All right," she said with some trepidation.

 

"You'll let me treat you without protesting."

 

Ah. He meant for them to go some place expensive, she took it.

 

"All right," she said agreeably. "I'm surprised."

 

"Why?"

 

"That you want to spend more time with me," she stated.

 

"Of course, I do," he said gruffly as he rose, pulling his coat back on. He tossed a twenty onto the table. "Let's go. I have a car. We're going to the other side of the city."

 

"Oh! Okay—" Rey took a last gulp of her tea and hastily grabbed her coat and scarf. She bundled herself up on the way to the door. This was all very sudden. His awkwardness had evolved into a fierce confidence, and she wasn't sure what to make of it except that she… rather liked it.

 

He held open the door for her, and she slid into a very posh vehicle. He slipped in after her and gave the driver directions. It really _was_ on the other side of the city, wherever they were going. Rey hadn't even heard of that address before.

 

 _This could be fun_ , she told herself. _Don't fret. You're doing a great job._

She didn't really believe so until he reached across the seat and took her hand, his eyes firmly rooted on his window. His grip was strong, certain, and Rey's heart skipped a beat. She scooted in a bit, daringly resting her temple on his shoulder, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to see his expression. But he surprised her again by tilting his cheek against her hair. They breathed quietly together.

 

 _I can do this_ , she thought. _Better yet, I_ want _to do this._

It helped that he smelled absolutely amazing.


	3. The Premonition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are!

_You are my sunshine…_

Rey laughed in her hospital bed, covered in sweat from just delivering a child, her index finger held onto by a tiny hand.

_My only sunshine…_

The graveyard—the polished coffin—the grieving family. Rey stood with them, staring disbelievingly through the snow, filled with grief. She hadn't been enough. She'd failed herself, failed him.

 

_You make me happy…_

"No, no, no! _I_ want to take the first picture!" Rey ganked Ben's phone out of his hand, dancing gingerly out of the way as he tried to get it back. Her giggles rang through the air, coupled with Ben's mock growls of frustration. Then the baby hiccupped, and Rey tossed the phone at him to run to the bed and smile down at their daughter.

 

_When skies are gray…_

An agonized scream ripped from Rey's throat as she sank to her knees in front of Ben's lifeless body. Tears poured down her cheeks, and choking on a sob, she reached out a hand to touch his pulse, knowing as she did so that she wouldn't find one.

 

_You'll never know how…_

Rey smiled as she climbed onto the bed, finding Ben asleep with their daughter curled up on his chest. His long lashes covered his stark cheekbones, and his usual grumpy demeanor was more peaceful. It made Rey lean down and kiss both of their foreheads, breathing in cologne and precious baby scent.

 

_Much I love you…_

"It wasn't good enough, nothing I did was good enough!" Rey sobbed hysterically. Her friend Poe grabbed her by the shoulders to drag her into a hug while he exchanged a worried glance with Finn. She couldn't seem to stop crying. "Why wasn't it good enough?!"

 

_Please don't take…_

"My sunshine away," Rey sang softly as she rocked her daughter gently in her arms.

* * *

 

 

_Just hear those sleigh bells jingle-ing, ring-ting tingle-ing, too_ _  
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you_

 

 Rey sucked in a huge breath.

 

"What is it?" Ben murmured.

 

Her surroundings returned, bringing with them the light tinkle of glasses and silverware, the murmur of diners, and someone's barking laughter. Ben was at her side, and the hostess stood across from her, holding their coats, her thin eyebrows raised.

 

"Um," Rey said with a clearing of her throat. "Nothing. I thought I had to sneeze."

 

She followed Ben through the restaurant, weaving through tables until they came to what had to be a VIP room. It was closed off from the rest of the place, in a dainty little room that carried the presence of the establishment without the people. Rey requested tea as she grabbed her purse, which she hadn't let the woman take, and zipped off to the lavatory.

 

Checking carefully that all the stalls were empty, Rey let herself into the largest one and dug in her bag for the feather. It was warm as it touched her fingers, resonating. It hadn't done that earlier, making Rey think that Sitrine had expected this call.

 

"What the bloody hell was that?" she hissed to the feather at large. She had no idea how to operate this thing.

 

 _I get snippets of possible futures when I request them,_ said a voice in the back of her mind, like it had the night before at the Christmas party.

 

"Why haven't you been requesting them all this time?" she demanded. Her ears were pricked, keeping an ear out for anyone who might come in there.

 

_I told you. I'd grown lax. But now, with incentive, I've accessed them again. And I must say, things are either going to go really well, or—_

"You'll be sent to hell in a handbasket?"

 

_I am not going to dignify that with a response._

 

Rey set her teeth and heaved a sigh through them. She was ticked. "If I'm saving him, why bother showing me a future of him dying! _Again_!"

 

_Because the circumstances had changed. Notice you were the one who found him after he died._

"Then what about all the baby stuff?" she demanded.

 

 _If you succeed,_ that _will happen._

"I don't even want babies," she said.

 

_You don't now._

Rey opened her mouth to argue before shutting it. He was just going to come back with some stupid, quippy answer, and she was already at the end of her patience after that little display. "Why do that the way you did? Why show me at all?"

 

_It's incentive. On the one hand, you see what happens if you fail. And, on the other…_

"It was twisted and creepy!" she said loudly.

 

The bathroom door opened, making her freeze, and she clutched the feather to her. A woman's footsteps echoed on the tile, and the creak of hinges was fast behind it.

 

 _I thought of it as a wondrous piece of work_ , said Sitrine, since he could. _Winding two futures together like that is a feat._

A toilet flushed. The faucet sounded, the press for soap—a hand dryer, the bathroom door opening once more. Rey waited, counting down a minute before deeming it safe to continue this conversation with the guardian angel.

 

"Don't do that again!" Rey said. "I don't want to know the outcome unless I'm really fucking this up! Now eff off!"

 

Hardly daring to believe that she had gone off on an angel like that, she stuffed the feather back in her purse. As she came back into the restaurant, she fastened on a smile, glad she had dolled herself up today. She would have stood out like a sore thumb if she'd worn flats instead of heels—left her hair up instead of teasing it out.

 

She pushed open the door to their little getaway and set her purse down on a spare seat as she dropped into her own. She pulled her shirt and blazer down. A glass of tea with a lemon was waiting for her, along with her date, who was still frowning.

 

"What is it?" she asked. "What did I miss?"

 

"Nothing," he said. "You just—you're sure you're all right?"

 

"I'm splendid," she replied. And tried out a teasing smile for him. "I never imagined the infamously not nice Ben Solo would worry so much over a gasp—"

 

The reaction was not what she had expected. Instead of glaring or coming back with some snappy remark, an expression she couldn't place crossed his face, and then he was on his feet, completely ready to go. Seeing that made Rey's heart leap nearly out of her chest—she grabbed hold of his wrist.

 

"No—Ben, wait!" she said. "That's not—I didn't mean it like that."

 

"Then what did you mean it like?" He had let her halt him, but he wasn't looking at her. One wrong word, and he'd be out the door. And she couldn't let that happen.

 

"I feel special," she decided to admit. She could worry over how honest she was being later, when it was safe and she wasn't half out-of-her-mind that she had blown it. Damn Sitrine and his visions. They weren't helping anything. "All right? I like that—that you're nice with me, even if you're not with everyone else. Maybe especially because of that."

 

He still wouldn't look at her.

 

"Please sit down?" she begged him. "I'm having a nice time. I don't want you to go."

 

Tension drew his shoulders straight. His pride had come out now. She could tell from the flush to the tips of his ears. Either he was going to swallow that pride and sit back down, or he was going to let it fuel his anger and lead him out of here so he didn't make what he considered a fool of himself.

 

"I'll sing," she threatened. "I'm terribly off key."

 

He shook his wrist free.

 

She clung onto it, raising her voice in song, "FROSTY THE SNOWMAN—"

 

Ben covered her mouth with his hand, which was just as well, because now she was laughing a little too much. She couldn't help it. The horrified expression on his face had made it entirely worth it.

 

"All right, I'll stay," he said, narrowing his eyes at her. He lowered his hand, cupping her cheek in it, still kneeling in front of her. He stroked her cheek slowly for several moments before working up the courage to lean in, his eyes slipping closed.

 

Rey smiled as their lips met.

 

"Good," she said. "I wouldn't want to have to break out any other disasters." She was already laughing again.

 

Ben fell back into his seat. "Do you always sound like a cat on it's death bed?"

 

"Rude!" Rey gasped.

 

He gave a halting chuckle, as though unfamiliar with the sound. "You could have woken up the dead with that voice," he went on. "I'm going to find my great-grandfather's bones climbing out of the closet tonight—!" He cut off as she smacked him with her cloth napkin, his chuckle deepening.

 

"It is rude to insult a lady!" Rey admonished.

 

"That wasn't a lady. That was a toad serenading someone's funeral—Ow!"

 

"It doesn't actually hurt! It's dry cloth!"

 

" _May I_ take your orders?" came a woman's voice, hitting it hard at the beginning. Rey didn't blame her. They had been making quite the racket, and now they sank into their respective seats, blushing from being caught acting like toddlers.

 

"No," Ben said. "We need another moment."

 

The waitress vanished, and they broke into more giggles. It was the sort of laughter that had no reason to form—that carried on gaily with no incentive—that fed itself when shared with another. It was a laugh that wouldn't make sense to anyone who hadn't been there to witness the joke. Not that either of them knew that the joke was.

 

That was the thing, though. Rey didn't care, and she didn't think he did, either.


	4. The Mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, guys, for your continuing support! I love each and every comment! <3 Please keep them coming!

 

_Oh, the weather outside is frightful,_

_But the fire is so delightful,_

_And since we've no place to go,_

_Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow_

 

"So… what are you plans for Christmas?"

 

"Stay at home, get drunk, and…" He hesitated, as though he wanted to say something else. Rey had an idea of what. But he shook his head and shrugged, cutting into his chicken. "I don't know, play a game of solitaire."

 

"Solitaire?" Rey asked with a giggle, attempting to make light of it. She didn't want her question hounding his thoughts, pushing him to what he was going to do if she was too late.

 

"It's… calming," he said in that halting way of his.

 

"Calming," she repeated.

 

"Are you just going to echo me?" He narrowed his eyes.

 

"Maybe," she said slyly. "No, I'm sorry—go on."

 

He let out a soft scoff but finished his train of thought. "It's like adult coloring, I don't know. I zone out."

 

"You adult color?" she questioned.

 

"My mother does," he sighed.

 

"Playing solitaire on Christmas sounds so sad," she said. "Why won't you be with your family?"

 

His eyes flashed. "Let's not talk about my family."

 

Taken aback, she nodded after a hesitant moment. "All right, sure."

 

He sighed again and rubbed his hand over his face. "I—not right now. Is that okay?"

 

"Yes," she said, a bit relieved she hadn't pushed him away.

 

"What are you doing for Christmas?" he asked, not-so-subtly turning the subject back on her.

 

"Well… Nothing, I suppose." She nibbled on a roll, lining her thoughts up. She didn't much like discussing her family, either. "My father will be overseas, visiting an old friend of his. I couldn't get off from work. So I'll be stuck here alone." She tried to smile, but it was very weak.

 

"…Why?" Ben asked.

 

If this was a normal date—a normal situation—Rey would have wryly commented that apparently _her_ family wasn't off-limits. But nothing about this situation was normal, and Rey couldn't risk it. She'd already seen how sensitive he was when she tried to tease him half an hour ago.

 

"I'm an orphan," she said. It was easier to tear the roll into pieces than to look at him. Above all else, she hated seeing pity on someone's face. There was nothing to pity. She was fine. "My father adopted me when I was very young. I think I was five."

 

She laughed suddenly, the tone slightly bitter. "Maybe that's why we like each other," she said. "We're both lost souls."

 

She flushed. What a stupid thing to say.

 

Or so she thought. Ben had grabbed her hand and pulled it toward him. He held it between them on the table. He wasn't meeting her eyes, either, absorbed in eating more of his chicken. It was nearly gone. She'd noticed he'd forgone any sort of vegetables except a baked potato. Rey was just glad they served normal food here. She didn't know what she'd do with foie gras.

 

"We should do something," she suggested now that they were nearing the end of the meal.

 

"Like what?" he asked.

 

"Maybe tomorrow I could come over," she said tentatively. "Hang out?"

 

"You won't come before then?" Ben asked, unable to mask his disappointment.

 

Rey flushed so hard she thought her cheeks were going to burn off.

 

"Am I being too forward?" He met her eyes.

 

"I—I mean…" Rey fought not to wriggle with some discomfort. But all she could do was give voice to her worries. "It won't make me look desperate to be around you?" Sex, she figured, was an unspoken sort of thing. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to spell that part out—he was pretty socially stunted, though he'd managed fine so far.

 

"It's been over a year since I invited anyone to my place," he commented. He released her hand to busy himself with considerately piling his used dishes for the waitress. "…And… longer than that that I—… That I liked someone so much." The tips of his ears were red again. She thought it was cute.

 

"I like you, too," Rey said quietly.

 

That won her a rare smile.

 

"Do your mouth muscles hurt?" she asked before she could think better of it. Damn it for being in her nature to tease.

 

He snorted. "Let's go."

 

"Where to?" His flat already?

 

"Somewhere… in the city. It doesn't matter." They stood in unison from the table, placing their cloth napkins on top of their dirty dishes.

 

"Still not tired of me?" she quipped.

 

Ben grabbed her, pulling her aside to the wall. Here, he kissed her fiercely, with none of the trepidation he'd exhibited so far. Their tongues met in a rush, and she heard herself groan. He didn't let up until she'd all but melted into his arms, and then he took her by the hand and led her out of the restaurant.

 

Dazed, Rey allowed herself to be put into his car.

 

"Where do you want to go?" he asked, and she had trouble not looking at his mouth. At the moment, the only place she wanted to go was his lap.

 

Deciding that making out in the car might be unseemly, she cleared her throat. "What's your favorite place?"

 

"Ah… nowhere exciting," he muttered.

 

"I'm sure that's not true. Tell me," she insisted.

 

"I like the Organa Museum of Natural History," he said so softly she had to fight to hear it. He took a glance at her, then hunched his shoulders with a long sigh. "My family founded it on my mother's side about a century ago. Going there is… peaceful."

 

"Well, let's go there, then," she said agreeably. "I like museums well enough."

 

"It's boring for a date." He was still muttering.

 

She lightly slapped his shoulder with the backs of her fingers. "Don't be a ninny." She leaned over the seat to speak to the driver. "The museum?"

 

The car pulled smoothly off the curb and into traffic.

 

* * *

 

 

_'Cause I just want you here tonight,_

_Holding onto me so tight,_

_What more can I do?_

_'Cause, baby, all I want for Christmas_

_Is you_

-All I Want For Christmas is You, Mariah Carey

 

Rey found great joy in the brachiosaurus statue perched outside the building. Why? Because it had a giant scarf from the University of Coruscant wrapped around its long neck.

 

Priceless.

 

The ticket master recognized Ben on sight. It made her wonder how often he came here, which brought a small smile to her face. What made it spread was how awkward Ben became around other people. He'd shut back down, sending furtive glances around the place, taking in the children and the parents chasing them down in the atrium. His I-Hate-the-World mask was on.

 

She hadn't lied when she told Ben that he made her feel special, out of the ordinary. It was a warm, pleasant swell in her heart. He really liked her, and she really liked him, too, and despite everything that was going on… It was almost easy to forget in his presence, like they were a normal pair of people navigating the tricky waters of dating.

 

There was an exhibit for Egypt. No pictures were allowed to be taken there—security guards were making the museum goers put their phones away. It was also dark; there was dim lighting. Rey grew excited when they traveled to the gemstones and crystals. It was dark in here, too, with the cases lit up to illuminate their contents.

 

"This geode is huge!" Rey bent a little to see it better.

 

"There's an even bigger one over there," Ben said with a point in its direction.

 

Rey hurried over. It was half her height. She knew from the experience of looking at such items that it was probably worth seven hundred US dollars. She'd never have the money for this sort of thing, but it was nice to look at.

 

"What's your birth stone?" Ben mused.

 

She blinked and looked up at him with surprise. "A pearl." She grinned and straightened. "We won't find that in here. What's yours?"

 

"A citrine. My birthday's in November," he replied gruffly.

 

Rey had to fight to keep her expression pleasantly blank. A coincidence, or…?

 

Ben stopped in front of a beautiful arrangement of amethyst.

 

"That's pretty," Rey said. "What's your favorite stone?"

 

His expression turned inward as he contemplated his answer. They walked by a few more cases, Rey with her arms loosely crossed, impressed by the collection the museum had. At the same time, she wondered what her own favorite stone was. Obsidian, maybe.

 

"Amethyst," Ben decided.

 

"Why?" she questioned.

 

"I don't know, I feel… calmer when I touch it." He shrugged one shoulder. "As ridiculous as that sounds."

 

"It doesn't sound ridiculous," she said as they left the gem room. "People place a great deal on stones. Rose has some, you know. She even purifies them every night in special salt water."

 

His brows furrowed. "…Really?"

 

Rey's head bobbed in a nod.

 

"Interesting…"

 

"Yeah. What do you want to see nex—"

 

"What's your favorite stone?" Ben interrupted. She could tell he had no idea he was being rude (not that she really was offended) based on the intentness to his face. Sort of like someone who had ADHD, she mused, but not quite.

 

Just another lack of social skills.

 

"Obsidian," she replied.

 

He grunted.

 

"So where do you—?"

 

"Do you like pearls?"

 

"I—yes?"

 

Another grunt.

 

_All right…_

Rey pulled her fingers through some of her curls, scrunching them. "I saw back there that there was—"

 

"The dinosaurs," Ben announced.

 

She faltered. "What?"

 

He grabbed her hand and started dragging her off again.

 

* * *

 

 

_Chestnuts roasting on an open fire,_

_Jack Frost nipping at your nose_

_Yule-tide carols being sung by a choir,_

_And folks dressed up like Eskimos…_

 

Rey read the placard in front of the three tyrannosaurs rex skeletons that Ben was ogling. Apparently, the museum currently held the most of that particular fossil in the country. Rey wasn't sure how true that was, but who cared? What was more captivating was the light in Ben's eyes. She hadn't seen it there before.

 

"You like dinosaurs, I take it?"

 

"I _love_ dinosaurs," he said, hitting the emphasis hard.

 

"Really?" Rey raised her eyebrows.

 

Another grunt.

 

She came to stand beside him, observing the towering fossils. "Did you know people are saying they likely had feathers?"

 

"Yes, though there's no direct evidence. At least, not in this case."

 

"Did you know that—?"

 

"I know much more than you about anything to do with paleontology," he said abruptly. At the look on her face, he grimaced at himself. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry, Rey."

 

"It's okay," she said.

 

"It's not. I should never talk to you that way." He sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, snugging her in against him. She didn't resist, the scent of Diesel washing over her. He kissed the top of her head. "I'm not used to speaking with intelligent people."

 

This made a laugh escape her throat, and it echoed off the wide room's walls. A couple of kids glanced over before returning to ooo-ing and aah-ing over an ancient sea turtle's remains.

 

"What?" he asked obliviously.

 

"Nothing." She curved a smile up at him. "Why do you know so much about paleontology? Did you want to be a paleontologist?"

 

He gave one curt nod.

 

When more of an answer wasn't forthcoming, she pressed onward. "What happened?"

 

Ben exhaled in a short breath. He was pretty good at it. He clearly had a lot of experience with impatience. Then, after a moment, he shook his head. "Nothing. I was expected to carry on the family business."

 

"I'm still in school," Rey told him, hoping to avoid icy waters. "For engineering."

 

"How did you wind up at Solo Industries?"

 

"My father got me the job," Rey said. She leaned against the railing that overlooked the room. The noise level had increased as new children reached the interactive circle. "He knew someone higher up."

 

"Who?" Ben asked, genuinely curious.

 

"Ah… Ben Kenobi?" Rey replied, not commenting on the fact that they shared a first name. There wasn't a need for Captain Obvious.

 

Her date was startled. "My Uncle Luke is friends with that man."

 

"Wow," Rey said. "What a small world!"

 

"We could have known one another sooner," Ben murmured.

 

"Yeah, it's a shame…"

 

"Do you think it would have made a difference?" His eyes rose to the rafters. He couldn't hide the shyness to the question.

 

Rey smiled. "Of course, it would have. For me, that is."

 

"Me, too." He pulled her against him again, and she wrapped an arm about him.

 

* * *

 

 

_Angels we have heard on high,_

_Sweetly singing o'er the plain,_

_And the mountains in reply,_

_Echoing their joyous strains_

_Gloria, in excelsis Deo!_

Ben guided her through the rest of the museum, although none of it was as good as what they'd already seen. He kept a running commentary, however, spouting out facts at various artifacts. She could tell that he liked being knowledgeable about such things and, seeing as how he took little joy in the world, she let him have at it.

 

He sussed her out on the final exhibit. "You know a lot of this, don't you?"

 

"I do," she said with a small laugh. A blush graced her cheeks. "But I've been enjoying listening to your voice."

 

Ben turned red, as well, before linking their fingers.

 

"Is this crazy…?" he whispered.

 

She took "this" to mean what had happened since they'd met at the party.

 

"No," she whispered back.

 

Stopping on the stone steps leading to where the car had come around, Ben grasped her elbow and leaned up. He kissed her, the barest brush of lips.

 

"What does it mean?" Ben asked.

 

"It means…" She searched for the right words. It was difficult to think when he was gazing at her like that, like there was nothing more interesting in the world than their conversation. "It means that we should do what we want no matter what anyone else thinks."

 

A few heartbeats passed before he gained the nerve to catch her eye again. "…Do you want to spend the rest of the day together?" His eyes quickly found the car. He was afraid she'd say no.

 

" _Yes_ ," Rey said, giving it some enthusiasm. She hooked their elbows together, and they continued their short journey to the car.

 

* * *

 

 

_This is my winter song to you,_

_The storm is coming soon,_

_It rolls in from the sea,_

_My voice, a beacon in the night,_

_My words will be your light,_

_To carry you to me_

-Winter Song, Sara Bareilles & Ingrid Michaelson

 

Rey laughed around a sip of wine. She was sitting on top of the counter next to Ben while he attended to dinner. They were in his kitchen in his _house_ , not his flat, and Rey had had trouble keeping her reaction to herself. Holy _shite_. Everything looked like it had cost far more pounds than Rey had ever seen in her lifetime.

 

His kitchen was nice, on the other hand. Well, all of it was _nice_. But this place was more welcoming. Ben liked to cook, and it showed in the appliances and the casual grace he had as he puttered about.

 

It had been such a great day. They'd caught an afternoon movie, and now he was making her dinner. She had thought she'd be more nervous about coming here. They barely knew one another. But there was an ease between them she hadn't experienced before. Already, they'd unearthed many of the other's life stories, and the best part of it was that they related on so many levels.

 

"I feel bad," she said.

 

"I'm not letting you help," he half-chuckled. He still looked unused to the noise, and he wet his lips nervously. He drained the pasta in the sink. "You can hardly feel bad if I'm making you stay there." He nudged her knee with his elbow and then rolled up his sleeves.

 

That was when she saw them.

 

Ben caught what she was staring at and hastily rolled the sleeves back down—or he tried to. Rey reached out with lightning reflexes and grasped his wrist. He turned his face away, bracing his hand on the sink with his free hand. Tension had drawn his shoulders straight.

 

She kissed the thin, white scars until he looked at her again. She pressed her lips there one last time, then rested her cheek against them. Ben slowly pulled her to him, his captive hand curling around her ear, and a moment later, he was parting her lips with his own.

 

"Is it okay if I don't want to talk about it?" he whispered into the kiss.

 

"We have all the time in the world," she promised him, knowing as she did so that they didn't.

 

But it seemed enough for Ben. He returned to the pasta. "Will you hand me that jar?"

 

"This one?"

 

"Mmm."

 

"Here you are."

 

"Thank you."

 

"You're very welcome."

 

They burst into a chuckle together, and their chatter continued into the evening.

 

Rey looked at the kitchen window above the sink, where snow was gathering on the sill in a thick pile. The wind swirled past, disturbing a few of them, leaving them to float off. She watched them, thinking about a lot of things. Foremost, that this was going well, even if she couldn't let her guard down yet. And…

 

And that the love Sitrine had talked about suddenly didn't seem so scary.


	5. The Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting into the thick of things.
> 
> Also, been prioritizing this story so it gets done before Christmas. I know myself too well.

 

_Deck the halls with boughs of holly,_

_Falalalalalalala,_

_'Tis the season to be jolly,_

_Falalalalalalala,_

_Don we now our gay apparel,_

_Falalalalalalaa!_

**_December 22_ **

_Rey,_ a voice whispered.

 

"Go away, Sitrine," she mumbled.

 

 _Rey,_ it insisted.

 

Her eyes cracked open. They immediately closed again as sunlight stabbed at them. Her headache wasn't helping. She'd had far too much wine. Grrgh.

 

_Rey._

"All right, all right," she rasped. "Don't get your knickers in a twist. I'm getting up."

 

She did so slowly, taking a look around the bedroom. It wasn't her own, but she was the only one in the bed, and had been all night. Ben was sleeping in one of his guest bedrooms. He hadn't wanted her to drive home, and he hadn't wanted her to go, and she felt the same about both things, so she had stayed. Why he didn't put _her_ in a guest bedroom, she didn't know. Maybe he was trying to be gallant.

 

It had worked. This bed was incredible. California king, the softest mattress—

 

_Rey!_

 

She looked up, fully expecting to see Sitrine. What she got instead was a woman she didn't recognize, who also had wings.

 

"Who the devil are you?" Rey croaked.

 

"My name is Padm _é," the woman said softly. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded in her lap._

 

She was very beautiful. She had a heart-shaped face, with large brown eyes that were warm and almost honey-colored in the ray of sunlight. Her hair was soft and wavy, just as brown, and it fell to her shoulders. She was wearing that sort of garb Sitrine donned, something Rey still couldn't explain. Her eyes couldn't make sense of much—they barely could keep a clear picture of her face.

 

"Why are you here?" Rey sat up straighter.

 

"Because I'm worried for my grandson," Padm _é replied._

 

Rey tensed, her eyes flicking to the open door of the bedroom. Padm _é calmly followed her gaze before returning it to Rey._

 

"He can't hear us," she said. "You're in a dream."

 

"Swell." Rey fell back against the pillows.

 

"It came to my attention that you were helping Sitrine." Padm _é's wings shifted as the woman grew more comfortable. "I've been—upset… for a long time now because of his lack of care."_

 

"Then why didn't you do anything?" Rey whispered, her eyes closed. Dream or not, an icepick was stabbing her behind her right eye. Nausea was a threat, too. Whenever this ended, she needed to put food in her belly, pronto.

 

"We're not allowed to," Padm _é replied. "We can only give a nudge in the right direction."_

 

"I don't understand," Rey said. "If you're his… grandmother, why haven't you been helping him, then?"

 

"Because my charge is my daughter," the other woman answered. "I died during childbirth, you see."

 

That was incredibly sad, and it made Rey frown. She sat up once more, mindful of her movements. Hurling was not an option. Rey prided herself on the fact that she never threw up. She wasn't going to start now.

 

"If you can only give a 'nudge in the right direction,' then why does Sitrine have me doing his dirty work?" Rey asked crankily. Then she _tsked_ under her breath and sighed. "I—not that I mind being with Ben. Not at all."

 

"You _are_ the nudge in the right direction," Padm _é said._

 

Quiet passed between them, in which Rey gathered her thoughts, Padm _é waiting patiently._

 

"Why are you here?" Rey asked at length.

 

"Because I like to keep tabs on my family, and Sitrine has been…" For a brief moment, Padm _é looked very angry. But it was so fast, Rey wasn't sure if she'd imagined it. "Neglectful. I'm not allowed to intercede. That was my condition for becoming Leia's guardian."_

 

"Yes, but why are you _here_?" Rey stressed.

 

"There was something I wanted you to understand," the angel said. "About Ben's—"

 

"I already said I don't want to know his past," Rey cut in. "I think it's important that he tells me himself."

 

"He won't—not… in time," Padm _é said, lowering her eyes. "Not without—"_

 

"A nudge in the right direction," Rey muttered. "But you're interceding now, aren't you? By talking to me?"

 

"Ben was very close to his grandfather," Padm _é said. "He died this past year. He was… Ben's rock, his foundation. He was the only person Ben would open up to, and now Ben is caught in a downward spiral."_

 

"That's still—"

 

"I wanted to see the girl Sitrine had placed in his care," the angel said, leaning over to rest a hand on Rey's. She was so petite. "And I wanted to tell her that she couldn't let up, no matter what. If he pushes you away, push back. Do everything you can to save him."

 

"I'm doing my best!" Rey cried, frustrated. She didn't need this pounded into her. She _knew_.

 

"You have to try harder," Padm _é insisted._

 

"If I do, he'll think I'm mad," Rey protested.

 

"He's already in love with you," Padm _é said._

 

"I don't need to hear that, either!" Saying it aloud like that, it made everything so—this was already insane enough!

 

"You have to face the truth," the angel went on. "It's the only way to save him."

 

"Fine. Say he's—in love with me." It was difficult to get the words out. "Say that. Then what?"

 

"That's the part you have to figure out on your own," Padm _é replied. She began to fade._

 

"No!" Rey held out a hand. "Wait—!"

 

Darkness descended.

 

Rey's eyes snapped open.

 

Cautiously, she sat up for a third time and examined her surroundings. Snow was piled at the windows of the room, and it was quiet, early in the morning. Dust motes danced in the light pouring in. It was going to be a clear day for once, not overcast and depressing.

 

She pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes squeezed shut.

 

Bloody hell.

 

* * *

 

 

_Ding dong, merrily on high,_

_In heav'n the bells are ringing,_

_Ding dong, verily the sky,_

_Is riv'n with angel singing_

The smell of bacon and eggs greeted Rey as she made her way through the maze of the house—more like a bloody mansion—and into the grand kitchen. Ben was at the stovetop. There was freshly squeezed orange juice. Rey could tell because the pulper was in the sink.

 

"You didn't have to do all this," she said.

 

Ben snapped his head around. He wet his lips, then returned to his task. "I thought you might be hungry."

 

"Well, that I am," Rey said. She hesitated a moment before stepping up behind him and wrapping her arms around his chest. She rested her cheek on the arch of his shoulder blade. "Good morning."

 

He touched her hand briefly. "Morning."

 

She kissed his back. "Do you have any aspirin?"

 

"It's in the cabinet." Ben pointed where with his spatula. Rey found it and a glass, filling the latter up with water. She shuddered as the pills went down. She hated taking them.

 

"Thanks for letting me stay the night," she said.

 

"…I'm glad you did. How do you like your eggs?"

 

"Ah—over medium," she replied. She sat at the island, since pulling herself up onto the counter again would be too much for her slightly hungover state. "What are your plans for the day?"

 

"I don't know," Ben sighed. "I was going to ask you that."

 

"Me?" Rey picked up a croissant from the basket on the island, along with a few red grapes. She needed the bread desperately. Something to soak up the wine.

 

"…Yes," he said. "Is that—all right?"

 

"That depends," Rey replied. "Are you offering to spend the day with me again?" It was Sunday. She didn't have to be at work until the next morning, bright and early.

 

"…Yes."

 

She grinned, ripping off a piece of croissant. "What do you want to do?"

 

He shrugged.

 

She had a feeling something was on his mind that he didn't want to voice, so she waited. In the meantime, she downed half the croissant and a handful of grapes. She liked the burst of flavor across her tongue. Green ones weren't the same—too tart.

 

"…I was thinking about my family's cabin," he said. It had taken him nearly two minutes to get that out, going by the clock on the wall. "But that would require you taking time off work."

 

Rey hissed in a disappointed breath. Before he could get the wrong idea from her reaction, she hurried to clarify. "That's just it, though. I can't just—ask off. I don't have any vacation time, and my supervisor is very strict."

 

Ben chuckled.

 

Rey reddened. "What?"

 

"Nothing."

 

"No," she insisted. "Tell me."

 

He slid a plate of over medium eggs and bacon before her, along with a glass of orange juice. "Eat up. You had three glasses of wine."

 

She pulled a face.

 

Ben put his hands on the other side of the island, leaning into it. It showed off how broad his shoulders were, stretching the simple blue shirt he had on. "Are you forgetting that my family owns the company?"

 

Rey paused midway to her eggs, fork in the air.

 

"…Yes," she said. "It's hard to remember. I don't know why." She supposed it was because he didn't remind her of anyone from the company. That, and she'd only known him for less than forty-eight hours.

 

Had so little time passed?

 

"Don't worry about time off. I'll take care of it."

 

"You don't have to—" she began, a bit mortified.

 

He drew back, frowning deeply.

 

"No—" Rey bit her lip. "I didn't mean it that way. I only feel bad that you have to do that."

 

" _Why_?"

 

"Because—I don't—" She took a deep breath. "Let's move past that. You want to go to your cabin? Where is it?"

 

"It's outside of Cloud City." Ben slipped onto a stool.

 

"That's three states away," she said. Captain Obvious at his service.

 

"I know," Ben said. "But I have a jet."

 

"You have a—" Rey blinked. She didn't know why she was surprised. The man was stupidly rich. Her current environ could tell her that.

 

Ben rested his forearms on the table. "Do you want to go?" He was getting better at looking her in the eyes, not shying away quite as much.

 

"I do," Rey said without hesitation. "But—"

 

"But?" he said sharply, already braced for rejection.

 

They were going to have to work on that.

 

"But I have to stop by my flat," Rey explained. "I assume we'll be staying for more than one day?"

 

He nodded.

 

"Excellent. After breakfast, you can have your driver take me there, and I'll get my things ready to go." She caught his expression before he hid it. Did he think she was trying to get some time away from him? It struck at her heart. He was so damaged. "Unless you want to come with me?"

 

He cleared his throat. "I don't want to be a bother—"

 

"You wouldn't." She grabbed his hand. Then, in the spur of the moment, "Do you want to spend Christmas there?"

 

Something… shifted through her. As though something was changing, and she had no idea of what. But her intention had been to keep him away from this house now that he'd talked about the cabin. Was the negative half of the future changing? She sincerely hoped so.

 

"…Yes," Ben decided.

 

"This way, we won't spend Christmas alone," Rey said with a smile. "But I have one condition."

 

"…What?" he hedged, gaze suspicious.

 

"While we're there, we have to tell each other our darkest secrets," she said.

 

He looked like he was about to say no, but at the last second, he changed his mind with a nod. "…All right," he agreed.

 

"Great." Rey happily stabbed her fork into an egg. "Oh, this is delicious."

 

"Thank you," he replied automatically. He'd withdrawn—not from her, precisely. From the world. He was rolling her condition over in his head. She knew that whatever his reservations, he wouldn't take it back. He would stick to it.

 

"Aren't you going to eat?" she asked.

 

He shook himself out of his reverie and took a piece of bacon off her plate.

 

"Oi!" She smacked his hand, but it was too late.

 

Their laughter filled the kitchen, joining in with the cheerful sunshine.


	6. The Cabin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And hello again! Some people have commented how the carols are getting them into the Christmas spirit. Believe me, I do it for me, too!

****

 

_Silver bells, silver bells,_

_It's Christmas time in the city,_

_Ring-a-ling, ring-a-ling,_

_Hear them ring, ting-a-ling,_

_Soon it will be Christmas day_

 

 

Rey stood on the beach a stone's throw from the cabin, cold but unwilling to leave quite yet. Her hands were shoved into her pockets. There was a scarf wound tightly around her neck, a warm hat on her head that covered her ears and had a small bill on it. Her gloved fingers were shoved into her coat pockets.

 

The salty wind tossed around what it could of her hair. It was nearly a roar in her ears. The shore was eroded from the crashing waves of winter, mostly stones. She kept her distance—she'd read too many stories about people who weren't cautious and got swept away. The rip tide would be too hard to swim against.

 

Ben came to stand beside her, shivering. "You don't want to come inside?"

 

She'd gone straight from the car to the shore, bypassing the cabin altogether.

 

"I've never been to the beach," she said, having to speak a little loudly to be heard over the waves.

 

"Never?" he asked in disbelief.

 

She shook her head, her eyes never leaving the water.

 

"Well, I've got the fireplace going. It's toasty in there."

 

"All right," she said. "I'll be in, in just a moment."

 

He hesitated—kissed her cheek and started up the small pathway to the cabin. She eased herself onto what little there was of the sand, pulling her knees to her chest. She rested her chin on them.

 

Who knew that the ocean could be so calming?

 

* * *

 

 

_A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices,_

_For yonder breaks a new glorious morn,_

_Fall on your knees,_

_O hear the angels' voices,_

_O night divine,_

_O night when Christ was born,_

_O night divine, o night,_

_night divine…_

"Do you believe in angels?" Rey asked. They'd just finished unpacking. Rey's things were in the guest bedroom as a matter of course, though truthfully, she wasn't sure she'd even use it. The notion brought small tingles of excitement.

 

"What?" Ben looked up. He was rubbing his hands in front of the toasty fire. It was a gaslit one.

 

"Do you believe in angels?" Rey plopped down on a very comfortable chair, resting her socked feet on the ottoman. Both were highly expensive. She could tell just from the fabric alone.

 

"I don't believe in anything," he said somewhat curtly.

 

Rey pressed her hands between her knees for warmth. The baggy sweater wasn't enough. "Nothing?"

 

He nodded.

 

"What about the universe and how it was created?"

 

He snorted. "That was caused from the—"

 

"If you want to talk space, I know more than you do," she said to echo his words from the day before.

 

She was rewarded with a tiny smile.

 

Ben left the fire to sit on another comfortable chair. "Where is this coming from?"

 

"I don't know," Rey sighed, tilting her head back. She closed her eyes. "I really don't." She did, of course. Wouldn't _that_ conversation be interesting?

 

Her companion left it alone. "I'm not sure what we can do. Cloud City isn't too far away. There's hiking."

 

"Or curling up before the fire and reading." She peeked one eye open to grin at him. "Or the hot tub. Or…" She flushed and trailed off. Her next thought had been rather naughty. The image of him shirtless had brought it on.

 

"Or…?" he prompted.

 

"No," she said, laughing a bit.

 

"Tell me," he insisted.

 

She swallowed and looked over at him, their eyes meeting. Despite the walls he had up around everyone else, his eyes were so expressive. His face could be perfectly blank, but if you knew how to read his eyes, you knew the gist of his thoughts. And right now, he was thinking…

 

Her heart skipped a beat and started racing.

 

"Tell me," he said more quietly.

 

"Sex," she whispered.

 

He reached over and grabbed her by the ankle. She squeaked, not knowing what to expect, but he was already standing up and stretching. For a moment, she was disappointed. She had wanted to know if he—but then he gave her a look so heated, she stopped breathing.

 

"We should get to the store," he said. "Buy some groceries. We keep the place cleaned, but it's been a while since anyone's been here."

 

"All right," Rey said shakily.

 

He pulled her to her feet and kissed her. "I want you," he murmured against her lips. "It's all I can think about." A hand traced down to her hip and squeezed. "When you're ready… tell me."

 

"Okay," she said, fairly certain she was ready now.

 

How was it that he could be so awkward, yet when it came to his desire for her, he was straightforward and confident?

 

He grabbed the keys from his pocket and dangled them at her. "You want to drive?"

 

* * *

 

 

_It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas,_

_Ev'rywhere you go,_

_Take a look in the five-and-ten, glistening once again,_

_With candy canes and silver lanes aglow_

Rey still wasn't used to driving American cars. Back home in Coruscant, she took cabs when she couldn't walk. She was managing well enough now, thankfully, the rented Jeep gliding smoothly over the icy roads. The sun played hide-and-seek through the dreary, gray clouds.

 

"What if we got a Christmas tree?" she asked suddenly. A quick glance sideways revealed Ben's furrowed brows, his contemplative frown.

 

"…A tree?"

 

"Yeah! It'll make it more festive. We'll have a tree, and then we can get lights and ornaments or whatever."

 

His frown deepened.

 

"We'll go to a Christmas tree farm, and Hobby Lobby has all their stuff half off. You can get some good deals. I'm not even going to touch Wal-Mart," she babbled.

 

"Hmmm…"

 

"No?"

 

"…We can," he said. "Just don't wear those deer antlers again."

 

She smiled. "Okay."

 

"Or that sweater."

 

Her smile became a laugh. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

 

"No… I do," he said. "I was just trying to remember the last time I—" But he cut himself off and focused on the passing trees that were covered in snow. "It's fine. It'll be… nice. To have—good memories."

 

The "for once" went unspoken.

 

Rey reached across the console and grasped his hand. He squeezed it and held it against his knee.

 

"Want to find a tree farm for me on your GPS?" Rey asked.

 

He pulled out his phone in answer, and they were in business.

 

* * *

 

 

_Hark, how the bells,_

_Sweet silver bells,_

_All seem to say,_

_Throw cares away,_

_Christmas is here,_

_Bringing good cheer,_

_To young and old,_

_Meek and the bold_

"I'm going to go this way," Rey called, and she got an, "Okay," back.

 

Her breath fogging the air, she turned around a line of trees to find none other than—

 

"Sitrine! You're going to give me a heart attack!" she hissed, one hand to her chest as she recovered. "Why are you here?"

 

"Because you aren't using your feather," he replied. He folded his arms, his expression rather imperious. It reminded her of the centuries-old angelic statues. Maybe there was something to that, after all.

 

"I don't need it," she stressed. "I saw his grandmother this morning. I get the drift, all right? Now back off! Why do I have to keep saying this?"

 

"You saw Padm _é?!" Sitrine took on a somewhat murderous expression, forcing Rey to step back in mild alarm. "Why? What did she want?"_

 

"To say that, A: You're doing a terrible job watching over her grandson, and B: He's in love with me, his grandfather died this past year, and I'm a nudge in the right direction!" Rey kept all of this to a continued hiss. She wasn't sure how they hadn't been spotted yet. "Go away before someone sees you!"

 

"Honestly, love, it would make my damned day if I didn't have to deal with you, either. But there's no use crying over spilt milk, see?"

 

"How do angels even curse?" Rey was beyond exasperated.

 

"They don't. Well, not usually." Sitrine studied his otherworldly cuticles. "Listen, we need to check in with one another. I've got the Big Man Upstairs on my back, you know?"

 

"That sounds like a personal problem," Rey sneered and moved to walk past him.

 

"No, it is a 'we' problem!" Sitrine quickly stepped in her path. "You know as well as I do what will happen if you can't help him."

 

"When does this _end_?" Rey begged. "Feeling suicidal won't go away. Maybe I can—I don't know, alleviate it some, but it's not going to _vanish_. He needs therapy. How long are you going to hound me with visions of his impending death?"

 

"Until after Christmas is over," Sitrine said. "Although I'm refraining from showing you the visions, as you asked."

 

"Thank you," Rey breathed.

 

"See, I can be nice sometimes, now can't I?"

 

"You're supposed to be nice all the time!" Rey exploded. "You're a bloody angel!"

 

Concerned glances for the deranged woman went her way. Rey flushed, embarrassed. Apparently, she appeared to be talking to herself. She was going to murder Sitrine. _That's right, I'm going to take out an angel._

"They can't see me," Sitrine needlessly pointed out. "But they can see you."

 

Rey reined in her temper. Barely. "I can't handle this pressure. I have two guardian angels on me. _Please_ back off, for all that is holy."

 

"But what if you slip?"

 

"What if the sky turns green, what if the world stops spinning?!" Rey whisper-yelled. "There is only so much that's in my control! Don't you have another charge to watch out for?"

 

"No." Sitrine shifted uneasily.

 

She narrowed her eyes. "Then how was it that you were able to grow so 'lax' if you were only following _one person_?!"

 

"Ta, love!"

 

And he was gone.

 

_Bastard!_

Ben poked his head around a tree. "…I think I found one."

 

"Great," Rey said, slightly out of breath.

 

He tilted his head. "What's wrong?"

 

"Nothing. I think I'm wearing too many layers. I run hot." She grinned, mentally thinking of how to strangle an angel, and if she would still get into heaven if she managed it. "Show it to me."

 

The tree he'd picked out was over seven feet tall the barest bit, and it was gorgeous. It also smelled _amazing_. Ben looked at her for approval, and she grinned again, nodding happily. He gave her a faint smile in return and went to find a salesperson.

 

 _This is going to work_ , Rey told herself. _If only I could be left alone for five minutes…_


	7. How to Save a Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone who celebrates Thanksgiving had a happy one! I planned out the rest of the story, so it'll be done shortly. I'm thinking a week, but it could be two weeks. Depends on how it goes. Either way, there's only a few chapters and an epilogue left.
> 
> Rally ho!

 

_Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy_

 

"I don't think it's necessary to hold me up for this! You're more than tall enough!"

 

In response, Ben shifted his grip around her waist and hoisted her up even higher.

 

Rey shook her head with a laugh and placed the star they'd chosen on the highest bough of their tree. Ben slowly set her down, his hands traveling the length of her body, stopping just short of her breasts. It made her breath catch.

 

His hands drifted away with a last brush over the line of her hips. Her skin was tingling as they stood back to admire their handiwork. Red, silver, and white had been the theme for their tree. A red buffalo plaid rug fringed with faux fur was beneath it. Unique ornaments as well as typical ones glittered prettily around the lights they'd strung.

 

"…It's nice," Ben murmured.

 

"It's more than nice," she said, turning around in his arms. "It's bloody fantastic."

 

"You get more British the more excited or tired you are."

 

She snorted and rolled her eyes, but her arms found their way around his shoulders. "Stop saying that. It's not as if I'm trying to smother my 'British-ness'. You're being ridiculous."

 

"I don't know," he disagreed. There was a twinkle in his eye that made her lightly smack him. "Stop doing that."

 

"Stop doing what?"

 

"Hitting me."

 

"Don't give me a reason to." She pressed her lips to his. "And don't be such a baby about it. I barely touched you."

 

"I know." He pulled her directly against him. His lips traced the length of her jaw. "But it's very easy to rile you up."

 

"Oh, _psh_." Rey's breath had caught—stayed that way as he nuzzled kisses to the side of her neck where it met her shoulder.

 

"Is this all right…?" he whispered against her skin.

 

Her throat beyond tight to speak words, she nodded slowly. His mouth touched the hollow of her throat with a hint of tongue. She groaned, her skin prickling all over with desire. But he was already pulling away with a secretive smile.

 

"You're a tease," she declared.

 

"…It's more fun that way, I think," he said.

 

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows that led out onto the patio. Snow was falling heavily. It was a nice ambiance, what with the tree and the fire going. Rey herself had donned comfortable clothing, since dinner was a few hours ago. A large, soft sweater, fleece-lined black tights, and thick slipper socks that came up over the ankle with two pompoms a piece dangling at their sides.

 

"We should find something to do," she announced.

 

"Like what?" he asked curiously.

 

"I found some puzzles and board games earlier," she replied, heading in that direction. She pulled open a closet to reveal the stacks of both filling every nook and cranny. There wasn't extra room anywhere. She liked it.

 

Maybe, once upon a time, the Solos had enjoyed such things.

 

Ben groaned his disapproval.

 

"Come now," she said with a mischievous smile over her shoulder. "Don't be such a spoilsport."

 

"How am I a spoilsport when we haven't played anything?" He drew the chairs each of them had claimed for themselves closer to the fire and the coffee table there.

 

"I have a feeling," she said. "Do you want to do a puzzle?"

 

"Not if you don't want me to shoot myself," he grumbled.

 

Her fingers stilled over the cardboard boxes. He didn't notice, and, her heart wrenching, she stepped aside so he could see the selection better.

 

"Yahtzee," he said without looking.

 

She hadn't played it before, but she pulled it down carefully, nudging the other boxes when they began to fall to fill the void. She shut the door and set the game on the table. The edges of it were frayed, the colors muted with age. It was definitely a few decades old.

 

"You'll have to teach me the rules," she said. "I'm going to make us some cocoa."

 

His brows climbed up his forehead. "Yahtzee? Never?"

 

"Never," she confirmed.

 

She reached into the cabinet for two giant mugs. There was a Keurig on the counter, so the place had to have been visited by his parents still. After filling both with hot water, she poured the cocoa packets into each.

 

"I want a lot of marshmallows," Ben called from the living room.

 

Finding that very endearing, Rey smiled as she stacked his high. There was an unopened bag in the cupboard, and it wasn't expired yet. She forewent them herself, carrying the steaming mugs into the living room, slipper-ed feet padding on the hardwood.

 

"Here we are," she said, handing him his and settling into her chair.

 

There was official paper laid out on the table, along with a cup and five pieces of dice. He'd carefully cradled the bottom of the box in the top one. She supposed that must be where the die were going.

 

"You're going to rue the day," he said.

 

"So you've set me up for failure?" She cupped her hands around her mug and took a careful sip. It was still hot enough to burn the tip of her tongue.

 

"Maybe," he admitted. "But who knows? You could be good at it."

 

She kicked his foot under the table, and he snickered.

 

"There were some pens left in here, but I don't know if they have any ink…" He went through four out of five and _tsked_. "We'll have to share a pen."

 

"I think we'll manage," Rey said wickedly. "Your marshmallows are melting."

 

"Yes. That's the point," he returned with a sidelong glance. She wrinkled her nose at him teasingly.

 

"All right…" he murmured. He cleared his throat and raised his voice. "Do you see the left side of the paper?"

 

"No," she said. "I'm blind, I can't see. Help me." She clutched her neck.

 

"That was _the most_ horrifying Southern accent I have ever heard," he said flatly. "Stick to British."

 

"I'll show you what's British," she muttered.

 

"I'm sure you will," he said. "But until then, these tell you what you need to roll. The upper half, as you can see, goes from one to six." He was intent on his task, bringing to mind a professor. Rey wondered if he'd be any good at teaching, if he had the patience. "And the lower half has something close to poker. You have your house, small straight, large straight…"

 

He went on until she understood the rules.

 

"Three rolls," he reminded her. "You can go first."

 

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

 

"So I can help you," he smirked.

 

Cocky bastard.

 

"Fine," she said graciously. She sat up straighter so she could hold the cup with the die over the box. She shook it and then let the pieces fall.

 

Except they didn't do it naturally.

 

Time stalled, the die falling in slow motion, their sounds muted. A six, and then a four and a three, followed with another four and a five. They came to their respective stops in the box. Ben was halted in watching, his brows furrowed. Rey knew without a doubt that celestial interference was now occurring.

 

Bullocks.

 

"Because I'm tired of this!" Ben shouted, but not the one in front of her.

 

She stood up and turned to find him in front of the patio doors. His phone was creaking beneath the force of his grip as he held it up to his ear. Their Christmas tree was there, and Rey knew then that this was a vision that would happen very, very soon. It filled her with dread.

 

Rey edged closer, the future Ben unaware of her presence.

 

"It wasn't my fault!" Ben cried.

 

"It's never your fault!" said a heated voice on the other end of the line. She was near enough now to hear it. "It's their anniversary, and you don't give a shit!"

 

"That's not true! You always say that, and it's never fucking true!"

 

"It is!" the man he was fighting with insisted. "I'm done with you! It wasn't enough that you took Jacen and Jaina away! Your whole damn life, you've fought us at every opportunity! You never _once_ said you were sorry!"

 

Tears lined Ben's lashes.

 

"They're gone _because_ of you!"

 

Ben swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing.

 

"It's not my fault," he said hoarsely.

 

"No, it's never your God-damned fault, is it? You could care less that you killed them!"

 

"IT WASN'T MY FAULT!" Ben screamed.

 

"YOU WERE IN CHARGE OF THEM!" the man roared back. "You were in charge of them! I wish it had been you instead of them! You're an ungrateful piece of shit, and it's unfortunate that Anakin died, because he can't be a buffer anymore!"

 

"Dad," Ben choked around a startled sob, shocked to his core. His own father had said he wished Ben was—

 

The line went dead.

 

"His father didn't mean any of that," Sitrine's voice sounded to her right. He was leaning against the wall, his arms folded.

 

"But Ben thinks he did," Rey whispered.

 

Sitrine vanished.

 

Just when she thought the vision was over, Ben kept moving. He found whiskey and a glass and tossed a finger of it back.

 

Rey did a doubletake—she'd caught sight of her future self coming downstairs, probably in response to all the yelling. It was entirely bizarre. For a moment, she understood why it was theorized a person would kill their doppelganger. It was unnatural—it made her on edge. It—

 

"Ben, what's wrong?" Future Rey asked once she'd reached the kitchen.

 

"Nothing," he growled, slamming his glass on the table. "Nothing at all. You have to go. I can't take this anymore. I don't want you here."

 

"What?" her mirror self gasped. "Why?"

 

"BECAUSE I DON'T WANT YOU HERE!" he repeated much more loudly. "I'm shit! I'm total fucking shit! You're wasting your time—get in the Jeep and go!" He dug in his pocket for his wallet and shelled out a few hundred dollars. "Here. Find a way home once you get to the city."

 

"I don't—"

 

Since her doppelganger wasn't moving fast enough, Ben grabbed her by the arm and dragged her across the cabin. The other Rey struggled the entire way, still wearing only her pajamas.

 

"Ben, no!" she protested. "I can't let you be alone! I know—I know you're going to kill yourself! I don't want to go! You need me!"

 

Fury filled Ben's face. This had been the wrong thing to say.

 

With renewed vigor, he yanked her down the stairs of the front stoop. There was ice everywhere, and she slipped, stumbling, flailing. She crashed to the ground, her head smacking off the asphalt of the driveway. Her lashes fluttered closed.

 

She was unconscious.

 

"No!" Ben whispered. " _No_!" He fell at her side, afraid to touch her. "Rey! Rey, wake up!"

 

_Beep… beep… beep…_

They were no longer at the cabin. Rey stood beside Ben as he stared through the window of the other Rey's hospital room. She was hooked up to multiple things, her face blank, her head wrapped. Rey couldn't tell, but she thought there may have been deep damage.

 

Ben shoved his hands into his hair, a whimper-y sob on his lips. His cheeks were wet with tears.

 

"Not again," he rasped. "Not again."

 

The world flickered.

 

The gun shook as Ben lifted it to his mouth.

 

"I'm a waste of space," he choked. "I destroy everything."

 

He pulled the trigger.

 

"I'd keep the three, the four, and the five," Ben Solo said in the present, jarring Rey as the real world shimmered back into place.

 

It took everything Rey had not to scream.

 

Three times now. Three times she'd seen him kill himself. It wasn't getting any easier.

 

Ben frowned at her with some concern. "…You all right?"

 

"What?" Rey found breath, her lungs filling. "Oh. Yeah, I'm fine. Three, four, and five? For a small straight?"

 

"…Or a large." Still eyeing her, he slid the three die he'd singled out to the corner of the box. "It's ultimately up to you, though."

 

"No, that sounds good," she said, putting her hands in her lap to hide how badly they were shaking.

 

His family—new players on the chessboard of death. Ben had siblings? They'd died? His father thought it was his fault?

 

They played five games, and Ben won four of them. He attributed this to his superior playing skills, but it was really more because Rey couldn't concentrate. She kept combing over the vision in her mind. For once, she wasn't angry she'd been shown it. No, it had held vital clues.

 

While Ben took a shower to get ready for bed, Rey snuck into his room and grabbed his phone. It wasn't password protected—probably because he was never around anyone. There wasn't anything on there, anyway. Base apps, nothing more.

 

She hurriedly looked up his mother's phone number, praying it was in there. It was. Grateful, she tapped the number into her own phone and put his back where he'd left it. Still trying not to make a sound, she tiptoed downstairs and into the guest bedroom.

 

The mobile rang four times.

 

"Hello?" came a cautious voice.

 

"Um—hi," Rey said. Shite. She hadn't had a speech prepared. "I'm—a friend of Ben's."

 

"Is he okay?" the woman asked immediately. What had Padm _é_ said her name was? Leia?

 

"Yes, he's fine," Rey breathed. "But I have to tell you something he won't."

 

"All right…" Suspicion and hesitation hung on the other woman's words. Rey imagined she was going over a mental list of who Ben could possibly be friends with who would call out of the blue.

 

"He really wanted to spend Christmas with you," Rey said. "But he doesn't feel like—he doesn't feel like he's wanted anymore…"

 

"What?" Leia whispered.

 

"I don't really have a lot of time to talk," Rey continued. "He'll be back any minute, and—and he'd kill me if he knew I was telling you. But—please, _please_ call him. Tell him he's wrong."

 

"I—of course, but who are you?" Leia asked, bewildered and worried at once.

 

The noise of the water running stopped.

 

"I'm a friend," Rey said.

 

She hung up, her phone beeping to indicate the line was closed.

 

Would Leia do it? Would she call Ben?

 

Rey's answer came moments later as Ben's mobile gave a standard ringtone. She relaxed, slumping against a wall, hanging her head.

 

Crisis temporarily averted.

 

This whole… suicide thing… It stemmed from what had happened with his siblings—with his father. That was the dark secret she had to get Ben to talk about. Right then, it felt insurmountable. How on earth would she ever get him to open up about that?

 

She knew one thing: whatever had happened, it had indeed been an accident.

 

Or why else would he be so tortured?


	8. The Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you unfamiliar with my other works, my sex scenes are a bit strongly worded. The first part of this chapter is work-safe—the second half is NOT.

****_  
_

****

 

_I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,_

_Just like the ones I used to know,_

_Where the treetops glisten and children listen,_

_To hear sleigh bells in the snow_

 

 

As a hush fell over the cabin, Rey knew that the half-hour long conversation Ben had been having with his mother was finished. She dawdled downstairs for a time, flipping through a book she'd brought. It was about cars and their make, one of the big ones you had to prop up on something so you could read it. Yet like the Yahtzee games, it didn't hold her attention. Her gaze kept flickering to the second floor.

 

The quiet lengthened, and Rey's fingers hovered over a picture of a beautiful Porsche. She debated on going up there. Did he want to be alone for a while? Would he stay up there all night, or would he come downstairs at some point?

 

After another five minutes, Rey bit her lip. She set the book on the coffee table and went to the stairs, the floorboards creaking underfoot.

 

"Ben?" she called softly.

 

There was no answer, but she hadn't expected one.

 

She stepped into the master bedroom and found him slumped on the edge of the bed, his face in his hands. At Rey's presence, he lowered them, his eyes red and a little puffy. For a man, he was intensely vulnerable. She liked that he showed his emotions to her, even if she hated what had caused him such upset.

 

"Do you want me to go?" she asked.

 

He nodded—shook his head—swallowed. "…I don't know."

 

Rey sat beside him, carefully not touching him. She could sense he didn't want to be alone right now. The wind moaned against the windows, a blizzard in full reign outside. It was cold on the second floor. She shivered and wrapped her arms about herself.

 

"…My relationship with my parents is shit," Ben said with an attempt at a manlier sniffle.

 

Rey nodded, gingerly grasping his hand. He didn't pull it away.

 

"It makes my life so fucking lonely," he said quaveringly. He'd found a spot on the floor to stare at. "…But Mom called—she told me how much she loves me. She wanted to know if I'd come to Christmas."

 

He cleared his throat, gathering his composure some more. "I said I was with you. She said she wanted to see me. But my dad…" He trailed off. "Mom said that Dad and I don't know how to talk to each other. And she's right, we don't." He set his jaw, grinding his teeth. "She said my dad loves me very much, too. I don't fucking believe it."

 

"Why don't you?" Rey asked.

 

"Too much shit happened." He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his fist. He rubbed his face, under his nose. Rey knew those movements—crying made you feel like crap. "It was never the same after that."

 

"People show their love in different ways," Rey said gently.

 

"Yeah, well, my father fucking hates me, okay?" Ben stood up.

 

"You're wrong," Rey replied. Anger darkened Ben's face. She was afraid of going on—the latest vision was fresh on her mind. She'd seen what had happened when she'd tried to argue with him. But she couldn't back down; this was too important.

 

"Stop," Ben said threateningly. "I don't want to fight with you."

 

"I had parents that abandoned me," Rey said shortly, her neck craned to keep him in view. He was so bloody tall. "That doesn't mean I had a more difficult life, but I understand—"

 

"How could you _possibly_ understand?" he snapped.

 

She pressed her lips together in frustration. "I understand what it's like to feel abandoned!" she snapped back. "And it took me a long time to learn this, but the only way to make things better is to talk about it—to air your grievances!"

 

Ben was already shaking his head.

 

"Do you plan to spend your life this way?" Rey asked. "Do you want to keep the pain to yourself?"

 

He began pacing.

 

"You can talk to me," she said.

 

"You wouldn't fucking get it, okay?" he gritted out.

 

"How do you know that if you don't _try_?" she countered, also getting to her feet.

 

Without another word, Ben spun on his heel, hands fisted at his sides, and left the room. Rey gaped for a moment. When she heard his footsteps on the stairs, she shot after him, calling his name. In seconds, he was out the door, hunched against the snow without any outerwear, and then in the Jeep.

 

Then he was gone.

 

Rey was horrified. She had absolutely no way to go after him.

 

Defeated, she went back inside, slowly shutting the door. She was trying not to cry. Despite everything, she'd still muddled it up in the end. He likely wasn't coming back. She imagined he'd have someone send for his things, leaving Rey to fend for herself.

 

He wasn't returning, and it was useless to think otherwise.

 

Heat creeped beneath her eyelids. The world grew blurry.

 

What the hell would she do now? Get dressed, gather her belongings, ring for a cab? She likely wouldn't get one, at least not tonight. The blizzard was on a rampage. She wondered if Ben would get hurt, driving angrily on black ice. Her heart quivered. She wanted him safe and sound.

 

The front door opened.

 

Rey turned, swiping at her eyes to dry them. Ben stormed over to her—she braced herself for a true fight. She wasn't prepared when he grabbed her and yanked her into a long, hard kiss. A kiss that said it wouldn't end there. It was full of a claim, of possession—it spoke of ownership. He needed this moment, needed to dominate her mouth. She let him with a groan.

 

"I love you," he said, breaking away enough to speak.

 

She knew he was. She'd been told numerous times. Yet still she looked up at him, her mind fuzzy at the edges, her hands resting on his chest. She hadn't thought he'd say it, not so soon. Truthfully, she hadn't given it much thought at all. And now it was here, an emotional grenade launched directly into her hands.

 

His brown eyes stared determinedly into her own. She swallowed. He meant business. She could tell that this wasn't born from the wreckage of their argument. And she knew that it wasn't something he would _ever_ say if he hadn't meant it. She knew he'd never told anyone those words at all.

 

She just knew.

 

"I love you, too," she whispered, pushing down her fears.

 

Madness.

 

This was madness, all of it.

 

He kissed her hard and moved her, shoving her up against the door. He grabbed one of her thighs and hooked it over his hip. His free hand cupped her cheek, long, slender fingers icy from his venture outside. She barely noticed. His cock was pressing into her, impossible to ignore.

 

Ben bent his head, and she rose up, their mouths meeting. These kisses lingered, growing deeper and deeper until their lips parted and their tongues tangled. Rey heard herself groan from far away. He echoed it, peeling away to trail his lips down her throat. She made a moue of disappointment. He was kissing her again shortly after.

 

Rey's hands worked at getting his sweater, which was covered in snow, off his tall, muscular frame. He shed it with his undershirt, exposing beautiful pale skin that she couldn't resist running her hands over. She traced the lines of his abdomen, the jut of his hips. A rumble of approval purred from her throat.

 

He tried to move, perhaps to take them somewhere more comfortable. She resisted, locking her thigh around that hip. She didn't want to go somewhere more comfortable. She wanted to be right here. They didn't have to go anywhere.

 

Sensing that she wasn't worried about their first time being on a bed, he slipped his hands under her sweater and sports bra and had it off her in a literal heartbeat. His fingers were icy still, making her skin break out in goosebumps. She didn't make a sound of protest, not wanting him to mistake it for anything it wasn't.

 

No, this was just what they needed.

 

Ben got his hand down her sleep pants, past her panties. He touched her cunt, finding it slick and hot. His fingers were hesitant—he hadn't done this in some time, either. Rey's increasing moans encouraged him, and soon he'd slid two, then three fingers inside of her, giving her an idea as to his girth.

 

She bit his ear as he worked to spread her open. "You said to tell you when. I'm telling you when—now." She grasped what she could through his pants so he would take her meaning.

 

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath.

 

Ben's arms locked under her rump, lifting her up more securely against the door. She got the buttons on his jeans open—reached in and grabbed his cock. A pearl of precum was at the tip. She smeared it as she moaned in sudden, intense want. He was huge, and it was going to feel so, so good…

 

The head of him paused at her entrance. His eyes shot up to hers.

 

"Is this okay?" he panted.

 

She nodded rapidly because she couldn't speak.

 

He slid into her slowly, spreading her open in delicious ways. She didn't breathe until she was seated at the hilt. For a number of moments, they simply drank one another in. Then his hand curved around the back of her neck—he kissed her, started moving his hips.

 

She cursed and held onto his shoulders.

 

"You won't fall," he breathed, pressing his forehead to hers. "I won't let you."

 

"Okay," she gasped.

 

"I'm not going to last long," he groaned. "Sorry—"

 

"No—this is perfect," she assured him.

 

Without a condom or sex in who knew how long? She understood. It didn't help that their bodies seemed made for one another. He fit inside of her snugly, and they moved together like they'd been doing this far more than the once.

 

He buried his face in her neck, a hand finding her clit and rubbing. She was on edge herself, and they tumbled over together, panting, skin damp with sweat in places.

 

"I love you," he moaned.

 

"I love you, too" she whispered into his hair, her heart still pounding.

 

Then, slyly, "Want to go again?"

 

"Give me twenty minutes," he sighed contentedly. "Fuck being thirty."

 

She giggled so hard he jabbed her in the ribs in a playful notion.

 

"Just you wait," he said. "It's a ticking clock."

 

"Yeah," she breathed. "I suppose it is…"  

 

Which was a damned shame.


	9. The Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a couple chapters/epilogue left! Thanks for the support so far! We're almost there, guys!

 

**** _Do you see what I see,_

_A star, a star,_

_Dancing in the night_

****

****

**_December 23_ **

 

Rey woke up to an empty bed, but the smell of frying breakfast items rose through to the second floor. She sat up and shoved her fingers into her knotted hair and debated on a shower. She was pretty dirty from the night before, and judging by the faint scent of soap lingering in the air, Ben himself had washed off.

 

She wrapped the blanket around her and almost hopped into the bathroom. The hardwood floor was so cold it actually hurt her feet to touch it. She got the shower going, her teeth chattering

as she rubbed at her arms to circulate some warmth.

 

Steam wafted through the bathroom. It was the declaration Rey needed that it was now safe to abandon her only source of warmth. She slid into the hot spray of water and groaned in relief. It was so bloody cold!

 

As the water sluiced down her body, she looked around and realized only Ben's products were in here. It was too late to go get her own things—there was no way she was shutting off the shower and going to retrieve them. She'd be in an ice cube in seconds. There was no other choice, then. She'd have to use his shampoo and conditioner.

 

The thought brought a smile. She liked how Ben smelled. This would be pleasant.

 

A rapping of knuckles hit the door.

 

"Yes?" Rey called, having barely made it out.

 

Ben's voice was muffled.

 

"Just open the door!"

 

He did so, and his cheeks were a bit red. He wouldn't look directly at her naked body, which she found somewhat hilarious. She told him so, and he rolled his eyes, his shyness evaporating instantly.

 

"I came here to say breakfast is ready," he drawled.

 

"What'd you make?" she asked, reluctant for him to leave just yet.

 

He braced a shoulder against the threshold of the door and folded his arms. Now that they'd gotten the teasing out of the way, he was making no effort to control his direct gaze at her body. It warmed her inside. She didn't think anyone who he looked at like that would be unaffected.

 

He was utterly fit, Ben Solo.

 

"It's a surprise," he said.

 

Intrigued, she laughed. "All right. I'll be down soon."

 

* * *

 

 

_Have a holly, jolly Christmas,_

_It's the best time of the year,_

_I don't know if there'll be snow,_

_But have a cup of cheer_

 

"Oh, my gosh, it's precious!" Rey put her hands to either side of her face, her jaw dropping.

 

Ben blushed and mumbled something, sitting down at the dining table.

 

"I almost don't want to eat it," she said, following suit. She gazed at her food for a moment longer. "But I'm so hungry."

 

"Eat," Ben said. He picked up a piece of toast and smothered it in strawberry jam.

 

He'd made her breakfast in the shape of a reindeer.

 

There were four slices of pancakes—two shaped like ears, one like a nose, one for the base of the face. Two pieces of bacon stuck up from under the bottom pancake for "antlers." For the reindeer's nose, there was a dollop of whipped cream with a raspberry pressed into it.

 

"It's so cute," she breathed again.

 

Ben rolled his eyes. "It's not. Just eat, okay?" he grumbled.

 

"Look, dear, sir, you cannot make me something this fabulous and adorable and then expect me not to make a comment on it," Rey replied, amused. "Admit it, Ben Solo: you're a softy."

 

"Never," he said around a bite of toast. He aimed the toast at her reindeer without raising his eyes. "Eat. You should recover from all the fucking we did last night."

 

Sometimes, Rey still wasn't braced for his crassness. She blushed herself, and then flicked her raspberry at him.

 

"What, woman! Stop!"

 

"You're lucky!" Rey informed him, grasping her glass of orange juice. "I can't risk anything else of Rudolph. I don't like raspberries, but the rest looks delicious."

 

"Oh, yes," he said wryly. "I am so lucky."

 

"Oh, don't be so grumpy," Rey said, her foot finding his under the table. She nudged her slipper-ed toes against his shoe. The man was dressed already. Rey had opted for her pajamas. It was a lazy, snowy day, and they hadn't planned to go anywhere.

 

"So don't be myself?" He examined a buttered bit of toast.

 

Rey shook her head at him, digging her fork into the nose portion of the pancake. Her free hand poured the syrup. It was maple and expensive. But everything here was expensive. It was a luxury cabin through and through, yet someone in his family had made it so homey.

 

"You know that's not what I meant," she said. She hesitated, seeing as how he hadn't returned to eating. "You… don't want to pretend the night before didn't happen, do you…?" Dread was an ice block in her stomach.

 

"No!" he said loudly. Fear crossed his features. "…Do you?"

 

"No!" she said empathically. "Not at all. I—I just wanted to be sure. Going forward… you—you said you love me…"

 

"You said you love me back," he murmured, his lashes low.

 

"I did," she whispered.

 

"And nothing's changed?" He set his toast down.

 

"No," she said steadily, all the while hiding her shaking her hands between her thighs. Nothing had changed, no. That didn't mean she wasn't extremely nervous. The battle was in not letting it show. "But…"

 

His shoulders tensed.

 

"…I do think we should discuss how quickly things are moving."

 

"…That's probably wise," he muttered.

 

"I just want to be sure that you… that this is really what you want," she urged herself to say. His eyes predictably flashed her way, and she reached over the table and grasped his hand. " _I_ want this," she clarified.

 

"I do, too," he murmured.

 

"And that's the other thing…" she hedged. "What, exactly, is this?"

 

"Does it need a title?" he asked.

 

"No," she replied. "Well, yes. I—I don't know. Maybe before that, we should… also… really talk about last night—"

 

He got up with his dirty plates and utensils.

 

Damn it all to hell.

 

"Ben, _please_?" she begged him. "We really, _really_ should. If you love me, and we're going forward with this, then I need to know the truth. And before we even came here, I said we would share each other's darkest secrets, remember?"

 

The dishes hit the sink a little too hard, porcelain chattering against itself, taking the fork and knife with it. Rey winced, hoping nothing had broken.

 

Ben wiped his hand off on a dish towel and sighed. He kept his back to her. She watched the way the rays of light melting the snow on the window played over his hair. It gave it a silky sheen as it highlighted the raven locks. Rey could envision her fingers soothing through them. They had last night, when Ben and Rey were tangled up together on the bed. He'd fallen asleep quickly after that.

 

"I think you know it," he said.

 

Rey wet her lips, unsure. Did he mean about feeling suicidal? Because there was no earthly way she'd know about what had happened to his siblings…

 

"I think—perhaps I only know part of it," she said slowly. "I saw the scars on your wrists…"

 

"Those were from a long time ago." He pushed the faucet on to start washing dishes, flinging the dish towel over his shoulder. "But… yeah."

 

Rey opened her mouth to speak, to say she knew it was more than that. It was lost over the sound of the dishwasher opening and the clatter of plates going into it. She took a moment to think of how to word what she wanted to say.

 

"I never felt alive anymore," he said over the sound of the chore. It seemed easiest for him to be open with her when he wasn't looking at her. She understood that, especially with something this delicate in nature. "…Not until I saw you standing there in that ugly sweater with those… ridiculous antlers."

 

Rey snorted a giggle, covering her face with a hand to hide it.

 

"It… It breathed life into me," Ben said. "I've been… holding onto that feeling."

 

Her giggle fading, she lowered her eyes to the table. "Do you want my help?" she asked for the second time. Last night had not produced good results. Regardless, she had to try again. They were running out of time.

 

He waited until he'd finished with the dishes to return to the table. He sat on his stool with one thigh up, the other down. His hands were fisted loosely in his lap. He spun the stool slightly as he talked, his eyes on the morning sun breaking through the clouds.

 

"I do," he said. "I… didn't react well last night. But…" He exhaled. "You're right. You should know."

 

"It's not that I should know," she said imploringly. "It's for you—to rid yourself of some of your burden."

 

He snorted, and she colored.

 

"However you want to look at it," he said. His eyes wandered her way, drank in her expression. He sighed again and inclined his head at her. "Fine. You're right. I need to… relieve my burdens."

 

Mollified, Rey nodded.

 

Ben dragged his fingers into his hair and fisted them there. His other hand dallied along his knees, fingers tapping. Rey waited patiently. He was figuring out how to start the story. She knew it was hard enough for him to tell her at all.

 

 _Progress_ , she thought faintly.

 

"I… I had a brother and a sister," he said. "We were—triplets, actually."

 

"Triplets?" Rey parroted, her brows rising. _That_ , she had not expected.

 

"Yeah…" His fingers migrated to the table to tap there instead. He rolled his shoulders—his muscles were pinched with fresh tension. "Jacen and Jaina. Me. I was… born first. Jacen next, then Jaina."

 

Rey pushed her plate aside and folded her arms on the table. Her chin dipped to rest on her forearms.

 

"We did everything together. When we were eight…" His voice choked, and he didn't speak again for a long time. "…When we were eight, we were… at another cabin. We wanted to go exploring. It was my idea, actually."

 

Rey bit her lip.

 

"I had found a pond frozen over, and we had our skates for an official rink. I knew if… Dad found out that we wanted to go skating on our own, like a bunch of fucking idiots, he would have said no. I…" He wet his lips, his eyes growing haunted. "I wish I had asked him." A fine tremor ran through the words.

 

"Then what happened?" Rey prompted softly.

 

"…We wanted to go out, and he said not to go very far. He said I was in charge. He… did this stupid salute thing he does with two fingers—looking like a smug son of a bitch… Then he walked off, and the second he was out of sight, we were off."

 

His gaze grew distant, seeing things she couldn't in the passage of time. "I'm sure you can guess where this is going. We went out onto the pond. The ice at the edges held firm. I wanted to go to the center. Jacen thought it'd be fun, too, but Jaina was against it."

 

Ben grasped the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "We insisted, so she came with us. I wanted to race—we said Jaina could be the judge of who won, but she wanted to race, too." A brief grin turned the corners of his mouth up. "She never wanted to be excluded. She had to be with us everywhere."

 

"You were triplets," Rey murmured.

 

"Yeah…" He swallowed so hard she could see his throat working. "So… we raced. We pushed off at once. I got ahead, and I heard this… this cracking sound. I'm not—I don't really know what, exactly, saved me."

 

"What do you mean?" she frowned.

 

"I should have—" The words died fast. He started over. "One second…" His voice trembled. "One second, I was just ahead of Jacen, and the next I was out of danger."

 

"Out of danger?" Rey sat up a little more.

 

"The ice had cracked," he breathed. "Jacen and Jaina went under. They were screaming—they couldn't get out of the water. I think because it was too cold, I don't know."

 

Rey was fixated. The pain on his face was so stark.

 

"I tried to get to them…" He blinked, and a few tears escaped. He lowered his head to hide them. "I _did_ get to them. I got them out, but it took a while. The ice was fucking slippery, and the water was making it worse, and…"

 

She barely dared to breathe.

 

"I got them out," he reiterated. "But, in the end, it didn't fucking matter. They were gone."

 

"Gone?" Rey repeated.

 

"Yeah. By the time I got them home, they had…"

 

"Hypothermia?"

 

"No. I mean, close. But—no, it was cold shock. We were eight, and the water had to be below freezing. I've researched it over and over—what I could have done, but…" A bitter laugh escaped him. "There's really not much."

 

"It's not your fault," Rey said.

 

"I know it's not my fault," he said, nodding. "But, uh…" He played with the syrup bottle. "I never told my dad I was sorry. He stood there, and he kept screaming over and over that he had left me in charge, and I… I got so angry. It wasn't _my_ fault. It was the only thing that was keeping me sane. I had _not_ killed my brother and sister."

 

Rey didn't need to tell him that he hadn't.

 

"But my father was so close to Jaina… She was kind of sickly growing up. That's why she fought so hard to stay with us, to do the things we did. She was always pushing herself."

 

"Is it too late to talk to him about it now?" she whispered.

 

"My mom says it's not." He shrugged his shoulders at her. "I don't fucking believe it, though." He leaned back on his stool, his head dangling over the edge, exposing the column of his throat. "She's right. We _don't_ know how to communicate, and that started before everything went to shit."

 

"Ben… I love you." She got up from the table so she could stand before him. She cupped his cheeks in her hands. She had to lean a little over him to see him with his head arched like that.

 

"I love you, too," he said quietly.

 

"I'm not saying it will fix things… maybe it won't," she said.

 

"Fuck, you're going to make us go there for Christmas, aren't you?"

 

Her silence was telling.

 

" _Fuck_ ," he said again.

 

"It'll help—"

 

"Yeah, yeah, fucking yeah," he grumbled. He slid off the stool with a long-suffering sigh.

 

"Full of love for the f-word today," she observed.

 

"It's my fucking favorite," he said to make her smile. It worked. "…How do you want me to introduce you to them?"

 

Rey liked that he hadn't questioned bringing her, that it was assumed she was going. "How do you want to?"

 

"I… don't ask me that," he told her.

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because I'm crazy, and I know what I want, and you're… you're not ready for it. Might not ever be. So… you pick."

 

"Well, now you've got me intrigued," she protested. "Come on, you can tell me. I promise it won't scare me away."

 

"Come as my wife," he said seriously.

 

"Ben," she breathed. White noise clouded her ears.

 

"See, I told you," he replied.

 

"I—" She had to search her feelings. What did she want, when the pressure to keep him alive was taken away? The answer truly scared her. But they'd come so far in such a short amount of time… "I'll go as your fiancé." She cleared her throat. "I want a big wedding."

 

He smiled so brightly it made her heart stop—it made her memorize every single detail of it. She wasn't sure if she'd ever see it again.

 

"Let's pick out a ring," he said.

 

"Just let me change." Trying to meet his smile with one of her own, she kissed his cheek and gripped his hand in passing. "I won't be long."

 

A ring. A _ring_.

 

Holy shite.

 

She closed the door to her bedroom and placed a hand to her chest. Her heart wanted to escape, so she found it prudent to ensure it didn't.

 

"It's all right," a soft voice said from the corner. She whirled to find Ben's grandmother. "I know it seems quick."

 

"It _is_ ," Rey whispered.

 

"I married Ani after two weeks," the guardian angel said. Her expression was a fond one.

 

"So this isn't too fast?" Rey questioned.

 

"If you know, you know," the other woman told her. She shimmered, preparing to disappear. "Do you know…?"

 

Aaaand… she was gone.

 

Fan-fucking-tastic.

 

Rey looked over her shoulder at her closed door, and more importantly, the man beyond it.

 

Did she know?

 

She squeezed her eyes shut. She again made herself take away everything except the simple fact of how they felt for one another. And when there was only that, the core of their love, nothing seemed too fast, too impossible.

 

Everything was… _right_.

 

Rey smiled and got dressed.

 

It was time to pick out a ring. And then? To see his parents!

 

She only hoped it wouldn't be an utter disaster.


	10. The Parents - Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, at the end! It's been a short, wonderful journey with all of you! Wishing you a very Merry Christmas!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/1252078465/playlist/55n1fi5U0duHGsiGf9p0Ii?si=hdQVM3ChQj2pkam32apBkw

 

 

__

_Sleigh bells ring, are you listening,_

_In the lane, snow is glistening,_

_A beautiful sight,_

_We're happy tonight,_

_Walking in a winter wonderland_

****

****

**_December 24_ **

****

"Your parents' house is enormous," Rey whispered as they stood before the front door of the mansion.

 

Ben grunted.

 

The thing was planted on an estate, on the outskirts of Coruscant, nestled in an offshoot of the Appalachian Mountains. The road to get there had been two miles after the initial gate, which had the letter S twined through it. When she'd asked Ben if it stood for Solo, he mumbled something about Skywalker being his mother's maiden name. Part of it.

 

By no means boring, the path was lined with evergreens coated in snow. They had taken Ben's personal car, and Rey thought it might be for a quick getaway should things go south. She hoped it wouldn't come to that, however.

 

Rey shivered in the cold. The sun was beginning to set, early in this hemisphere. A light layer of snow coated their persons. She wanted to get inside, preferring not to freeze into an icicle.

 

"Are you ready?" she asked.

 

A second grunt.

 

She wet her lips and debated on saying anything more. Then she couldn't help herself. It was too damned cold! "They know we're here. They had to allow us in through all the gates." There had been four in total. Complete and total overkill, but she wasn't a billionaire, so what did she know.

 

Ben said nothing.

 

Unable to take it a second longer, Rey grasped the iron knocker, thankful her hand was gloved, and banged it twice against the front door. There was a doorbell—the knocker was much more fascinating. She could hear it resounding through the mansion.

 

"No, no, I've got it," a woman said a few moments later. Rey recognized the voice as belonging to Ben's mother. "I want to greet them myself. Go get Han."

 

Her fiancé went rigid at the mention of his father. Rey slipped her hand around his elbow, keeping close. He shot her a grateful look.

 

The door opened, revealing a petite woman from whom Ben had inherited his jawline. That, and the steely glint to her brown eyes. Her hair was wound into an elaborate crown braid. Designer clothes garbed her along with the priceless diamonds dangling from her ears.

 

Rey would have felt extremely underdressed if Ben hadn't insisted they get her a new wardrobe for the trip. Still… Leia had that wealthy bearing to her posture that Rey would never be able to replicate. She probably looked like a pauper dressed in a princess' clothing.

 

The woman in question dragged Rey into a sudden hug. She yanked Ben into her arms shortly after. Rey's breath was stolen by the tightness of the embrace, but she hugged her future mother-in-law back. Ben did so almost reluctantly.

 

Leia pulled away to cup Ben's cheeks in her hands. "I'm so glad you're here," she said. She smiled at Rey. "And you, too."

 

A man appeared over Leia's shoulder, and Rey could see that Ben had gotten a mixture of both of their looks.

 

Han's hair was gray all over, and he wore a suit that matched Ben's. The two sized one another up, their expressions as frosty as the outdoors.

 

"Let's get inside," Leia said. "It's cold." She ushered everyone in, and a maid shut the door behind them. "I don't know if Ben told you, Rey, but we generally celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve."

 

"Oh?" Rey asked. The same maid was taking their coats and the bag of gifts they'd brought with them. "I guess the better to relax on Christmas, then."

 

"Exactly." Leia's eyes caught sight of the ring on Rey's fingers and widened. She stepped toward her slowly, as though Rey were a wild creature that would flee at any moment. "Is that what I think it is…?"

 

"Er…" Rey said, unsure of how this would be received.

 

But Leia smiled so broadly there were tears swimming in her eyes.

 

"No one tells me anything," Han grumbled.

 

"Oh, hush! I just found out myself," Leia said, still misty-eyed.

 

Ben's gaze roved over the mansion. He'd told her he hadn't been here in a very long time. He looked like he was taking in all the differences. He strode toward the grandfather clock in the grand foyer, his fingertips caressing mahogany.

 

"You have to tell us everything," Leia said. "But over dinner. It's ready." She walked to her son and took his arm as Rey had minutes ago. "I'm so glad you came, Ben."

 

He averted his eyes.

 

Han and Rey fell into step behind them, exchanging an awkward smile. Rey wasn't sure how to feel about him. The vision she'd had that had ultimately led to Ben's suicide wasn't going to go away anytime soon. But she knew there were two sides to every story, and she knew that Ben was difficult.

 

Leia kept up a steady chatter as they moved from one grandiose room into another. There were antiques placed everywhere, centuries old. Persian rugs, paintings—tapestries that made Rey wonder if they were hiding doors or safes. She was almost afraid to step anywhere, though there was plenty of hardwood to guide her.

 

"Um… your place is… nice," Rey said.

 

Han rolled his eyes. "It's over the top, is what it is. Inherited it from Leia's side." He cleared his throat. "Listen, I'm very bad at small talk—"

 

"It's all right," Rey assured him, reminded of how Ben had told her the same thing. She had to suppress a laugh. "We can talk about the weather, if you'd like."

 

"God, no," Han said with a shudder.

 

"Not a fan, I take it?"

 

"Who is?" Han raised his eyebrows.

 

"Meteorologists," Rey replied.

 

Ben's father considered her for a moment. She watched him back until he gave a gruff chuckle.

 

"All right," he said. "I'll give you that one." He pointed a finger at her. "So long as you know that meteorologists don't know what the hell they're talking about."

 

"The weather is unpredictable," Rey agreed.

 

They passed beneath a magnificent chandelier.

 

"If this is all from Leia's side, how is it that your company is called Solo Industries?" she asked curiously.

 

He waved a dismissive hand. "The company was already there. Leia thought it'd give me a sense of independence if it had my name on it."

 

"Did it?"

 

What came next was a shrug and the universal noise of, "Meh."

 

 _He likes it,_ Rey thought. _But he'll never admit it._

 

"I work for the company, actually," Rey said.

 

"Is that how you met?" Han replied.

 

"No," she said. "I was at a friend's party. Ben was there, too."

 

"Ben?" His brows furrowed deeply. His disbelief was evident. "A party?"

 

"He was there for the woman who works on his cars—who also is engaged to my friend who held the party."

 

"Interesting…" Han rubbed at the scruff on his face.

 

They entered the dining room to find it laid out with food and candlesticks that could pay Rey's rent for a year. A festive tablecloth ran the length of the table, and cloth napkins had equally festive rings around them. Everything was done up in red and green. There was even a Christmas tree in the corner. That made five that Rey had spotted so far—they were in every room at a window facing toward the property.

 

"He were are," Han rumbled. "There's usually Leia's brother here, but he's off, gallivanting somewhere in Finland."

 

"Finland," Rey repeated. "My."

 

Han gave her a knowing look. "I agree. Long ways away."

 

The table was very long, but the place settings were in the middle of it. Leia and her husband sat on one side, Ben and Rey directly across from them. Rey unfolded her napkin and laid it neatly on her lap.

 

"Rey was telling me that she met Ben at a party," Han said, that disbelief still on his face.

 

"A party?" Leia repeated with a laugh. "You've really changed, Ben."

 

"I'm… trying," he said to his plate. He glanced quickly at his father and then away again.

 

"How long have you known each other?" his mother asked.

 

Rey and Ben hesitated.

 

Leia's brows shot up.

 

"A… few days," Rey admitted. She took Ben's hand underneath the table. She looked beseechingly at his father. "I know I told you I work for the company. But we did genuinely meet at the party." She didn't want to be seen as a gold digger.

 

"You work for the company?" Leia asked. The food had already been prepared, so she helped herself and told them to, as well.

 

"Yes," Rey said.

 

"Not anymore." Ben put a heaping of turkey and ham on his plate.

 

Rey tried to keep her questioning noise to herself. Not anymore?

 

"It'd look bad," Ben went on. He added green bean casserole and rolls—a mountain of mashed potatoes, spooned in at the top for the gravy. It was like a miniature volcano. "It's different if she wants to be higher up, or… do something else."

 

Rey exhaled shakily. She was nearly sweating beneath the chandelier. The way there were ornaments hanging off it in places was very pretty, however. It was also easier to look at.

 

"This is moving quickly," Han observed.

 

"It is," Rey said at the same time that Ben challenged his father with an, "And?"

 

She elbowed him.

 

He shot her a glare. She gave him a look with pursed lips and wide eyes, subtly jerking her head toward his father.

 

Ben set his silverware on the table and sighed. "We met quickly. Yeah. But I love her. And she's… helped me more than you can know. We're getting married, and that's all there is to it. If you don't like it, I don't care."

 

"It's not that, Ben," Leia said as Han was opening his mouth to launch into an angry retort. "We just want to know how it came to be. It's… obvious that Rey has a calming effect on you."

 

Rey wanted to intercede. It was too late. She leaned back in her seat and hoped this wouldn't be brutal.

 

"My mother married my father after two weeks," Leia said. "If… you know how you feel, trust your instincts."

 

"And a prenup, right?" Ben sneered.

 

"Ben!" Rey said, having had enough. He quieted with a glare, and she wet her lips, turning to his parents. "It is fast. But we love each other. And we want to be close to you." She saw Han rolling his eyes again and puffed up. "Even to _you_. It's time everyone… talked. You can't go on like this forever."

 

"I have nothing to say," Han replied. "Sign a prenup, don't sign a prenup, I don't give a damn." He put his napkin on his plate and rose. "Excuse me."

 

"You can't just go!" Rey cried.

 

"Let him," Ben growled. "He's good at running away."

 

Han's eyes flashed. "Now you listen here, boy—"

 

"ENOUGH!" Leia all but roared. "Han—sit the hell down before I make you. Ben—don't speak to your father that way. Rey—my son has never brought a woman home, let alone planned to marry one. If you two are in love, I believe it, and I _don't_ believe in prenuptials. That's what trust is for."

 

She glared at the two men. "We will _enjoy_ this meal because we haven't had dinner together in years. _Am_ I understood?"

 

"Yes," father and son said sullenly.

 

Leia turned to Rey with a dazzling smile. She should have been in politics. "Please—tell me more about yourself. I feel as though you're family already."

 

* * *

 

 

_Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus,_

_Right down Santa Claus lane_

 

It was the middle of the night, and Rey was having trouble finding the kitchen. She hadn't been able to eat at dinner—far too nervous—and now her stomach was rebelling. Ben was passed out, a deep sleeper. He hadn't stirred when she'd left the bed.

 

 _This isn't your house_ , she told herself. _You can't go and grab food whenever it pleases you._

But Leia had told her to make herself at home, and she was so _hungry_. So she would—just this once.

 

She received a surprise upon entering the kitchen. Han was there, the refrigerator open as he pulled out leftovers. Rey made to leave, not wanting to be spotted, but he must have sensed her presence.

 

"Hey," he said in that gravelly voice of his.

 

"Hi…" Rey replied uncertainly. "I—er… I'm sorry. I was hungry—"

 

"Sit, sit." He gestured to the table. "I'm hungry, too. Didn't get a single bite in with that interrogation going on."

 

Rey grinned. "It was like an interrogation, wasn't it?" Leia had gone over every possible facet of Rey's life. "I didn't mind it so much, though."

 

"Good," Han grunted. "Because if you're marrying my son, that won't be the last one."

 

Rey helped Han remove the tops of the tupperware. Stuffing, turkey, ham, casserole… Her stomach rumbled hungrily.

 

"I know how it feels," Han muttered. "I was thinking a sandwich. How about you?"

 

"Yes, please," Rey said politely. "I wouldn't mind some of that casserole, either."

 

"Pretty good, isn't it?" Han rummaged around, and soon they were sitting on stools at the island, their meal at hand. He waited until they were done with their sandwiches and moving on to other things before speaking again. "You seem like the type who wants to fix things."

 

"More the type who doesn't want to overstep," Rey replied.

 

"Eh…" Han gave another one of his shrugs. "You're in too deep now. Might as well come out with it."

 

"Come out with what?" she asked.

 

"Whatever it is you want to ask me. It's something." He drew the tines of his fork through his mashed potatoes. "I can read people, you know."

 

"Oh, can you?" Rey laughed softly. "All right, then." She pushed the sleeves of her sweater up. For all the new clothes she'd gotten, she preferred her own type of pajamas. It was much more comfortable that way. "I wanted to tell you that Ben… he's really regretful that you don't have a relationship."

 

Han shook his head. "Ben never wanted one," he said around a bite of casserole.

 

"…I know what happened," she said tentatively. "He told me."

 

Han stilled except for the motions of chewing. Then he carefully set his fork on his plate and wiped his mouth with a nearby napkin. Preparing himself for battle?

 

"Ben is hurting," she whispered. "He wants to feel loved. He wants to know it wasn't his fault. And it _wasn't_."

 

"I know it wasn't," Han replied stiffly. "That's not what our feud is about. I was angry with him—he got angry at me. Now all we do is fight and say things we don't mean. Do you think I don't want him back in my life?"

 

"No," Rey murmured.

 

"I was orphaned," Han said. He took a sip of the tea he'd poured them. "I had no family. When Leia was pregnant… when we had _three_ children… I didn't think I'd wanted any, but then we had them, and I was… ecstatic. And then…" He trailed off. "Well, you know the rest."

 

"I was orphaned, too," Rey told him in an attempt to find common ground.

 

Han raised an eyebrow. "No kidding."

 

"You actually know my adoptive father. Ben Kenobi."

 

"Ben Kenobi," Han repeated blankly.

 

"Ben said he was his uncle's—"

 

"Oh! Ben Kenobi!" Han chuckled. "Small world, huh?"

 

"That's what I said," Rey replied.

 

They sobered.

 

Rey swallowed. "…Will you try?" she asked.

 

He wouldn't look at her.

 

"He's going to try, too," Rey said. "He promised me. He's so alone…"

 

"He's not—"

 

"He has marks on his wrists," Rey whispered more urgently. "He's already tried to kill himself before. And I feel like he might again, if this isn't resolved between you. Please, Han. Please try."

 

Grief passed over Han's face. "…I didn't know."

 

"No one does," she said. "He keeps his pain inside. Like you. You're a lot alike. Please promise me you'll try?"

 

"…You're very hard to say no to," Han said.

 

"I know." She grinned. "It's part of my charm."

 

"All right," Ben's father grumbled. "But he has to try, too."

 

"He will," Rey said, relieved.

 

And they spent the rest of the meal in companionable silence.

 

* * *

 

 

_Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock_

_Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring_

****

****

**_December 25_ **

****

Five in the morning.

 

The sun hadn't begun to rise—wouldn't for a few hours yet. Rey snuck into the library she'd discovered with Sitrine's feather in tow. She found a cozy chair in the back of the room. Later, she would peruse the books at her leisure. For now, she had an important conversation waiting for her.

 

"Sitrine," she breathed into the feather.

 

The angel appeared, kneeling next to her.

 

"Did I succeed?" she asked. Her throat was hot and tight. She didn't want to cry. She didn't.

 

"Yes," he replied. He was glowing more brightly than usual, enough to make Rey squint. Seeing that, he toned it down. "Sorry. I'm happy. Hard to keep a grip on how to appear to humans when I'm not thinking about it."

 

"You don't look like this normally?" she inquired.

 

"The human mind isn't capable of comprehending our real form, in all its glory," Sitrine said. "Not until death, that is."

 

Rey breathed deeply and sank back into the chair.

 

"I succeeded," she said.

 

"You did more than that," came a woman's voice.

 

"Padmé, quit interfering!" Sitrine snapped.

 

"I am not _interfering_ ," Padmé said coolly. "I am merely ensuring my grandson will survive."

 

"You aren't allowed to—"

 

"I'm sorry, would you like me to go to Him and explain what happened?" Padmé cocked an eyebrow. She was very regal in that moment.

 

"No," Sitrine grouched.

 

Rey sniffled.

 

"Why are you crying?" Padmé asked, concerned.

 

"I'm happy," Rey said. "I'm happy that he's safe. But I'm also wondering… how will I keep this a secret, everything that happened?"

 

"You won't have to," Sitrine said.

 

Rey sniffled again, a tear dripping off her chin. "What do you mean?" She wiped her face clean—or tried to. The tears wouldn't let up.

 

Padmé smiled kindly and touched her hand. "In a moment, you won't remember us."

 

"What?" Rey gasped. "But—"

 

"Everything will still be in place," Sitrine said perkily. "The only memory you'll lose will be of us. Your mind will fill in the rest. It'll be as if we never existed." He winked at Rey. "Come, now. Don't pretend you're not glad to be rid of me."

 

Rey stood up and hugged him.

 

It was one of the greatest sensations in the world. Safety, security—from a heavenly plane—enfolded her. Padmé took her hand, and Rey wasn't sure she ever wanted to leave. It was so… _good_ here, a haven from pandora's box.

 

"Thank you," she whispered.

 

And then they were gone, taking Rey's memories of them with them.

 

She found herself alone in the library and blinked.

 

"What was I doing?" she murmured.  

 

* * *

 

 

** Epilogue **

_One Year Later…_

 Rey soothed imaginary wrinkles out of her wedding gown as she peered at her reflection. Leia's tiara from her wedding instead of a veil—something borrowed. Check. Lacy blue panties beneath the layers of tulle—something blue. Check. Her off-the-shoulder, lacy dress: new, so check. The pearl necklace Padmé had worn at her wedding… something old. Check.

 

"Oh, you're so beautiful!" Rose was at her side with a glass of bubbly. The red gown Rey had chosen for her went well with her tanned skin. "Normally, I would think a Christmas wedding was cheesy, but it's just right for the two of you!"

 

"Easy on the champagne," Rey laughed.

 

"I'm just so happy!"

 

Before Rey could reply, the door to her room opened. Han stuck his head around it. In a moment, his eyes were suspiciously wet.

 

"…We're ready to begin," he said roughly.

 

Then he was gone.

 

"Awh, he was going to cry," Rose said, placing a hand over her heart and echoing Rey's sentiments. "That's so sweet."

 

"It was," Rey agreed.

 

It had been a good year. Ben and Han's relationship was still rocky and would be for some time, but they'd slowly and steadily made progress. Ben was in therapy, and Rey always went with him at his request.

 

She _had_ quit her job to focus on school. At first, she hadn't liked the feeling of relying on someone to take care of her. But Ben had made it clear that he wanted to, and that if she really pressed, he'd let her work. So they stayed at his place in Coruscant, and she had the luxury of going on campus for school during the day.

 

Leia had formed a strong relationship with Rey, as had Han. Even with the difficulties between father and son, Ben and Rey visited his parents frequently. Rey would even dare say that Leia had become one of her best friends.

 

It was nice to finally have a mother.

 

Her bridesmaids left the room one by one, Rose first, as she was the maid of honor. The other bridesmaids were girls she'd grown friends with in her classes and at visiting functions with Leia. Rey found that she really liked charity work.

 

As Rey came around the corner, her father was there.

 

"You look dashing," Rey said, kissing his cheek.

 

The church had Christmas decorations pouring out of it. Lights were strung up everywhere for the evening ceremony. Flowers hung from every pew—occupied vases all over the building. Everywhere someone turned, there was the sense of the Christmas spirit and the wedding that was about to transpire.

 

"You look beautiful," her father replied.

 

She placed her hand around his elbow. As they entered the nave, everyone stood and looked at her. The piano began to play.

 

"Thank you, Daddy," she said.

 

He leaned in to whisper into her ear. "It's the last moment to change your mind. Is this really what you want?"

 

Ben fidgeted where he stood at the altar. At her presence, he straightened, his eyes full of awe and love.

 

Rey smiled because there was no other answer than,

 

"Yes."


End file.
